The Little Things
by happyinchintz72
Summary: Kurt leaves McKinley. He hasn't had any of the experiences he's always dreamed of. Cue Blaine, the Warblers and the hallowed halls of Dalton Academy. FLUFF. Focuses in on the little things in life, the special moments.
1. Saved

**_Hey Everyone! _**  
**_I just HAD to start a new story as well, it's impossible to NOT fall in love with Blaine or the possibility that is Kurt + Blaine. They're so damn cute and I HOPE they keep their relationship (whatever it may be) teenage, new and tenatative. I just want Kurt to be happy and this is the main thing about this story. I adore Dalton and the little world they've created so I'm completely ga-ga for its traditional feel and boarding school atmosphere so expect me to GUSH about it :P_**  
**_Am a BUSY girl so updates won't be SUPER regular but I'll keep them coming. It won't be THAT long but it'll be a few chapters. _**  
**_I'm a bloomin' ridiculous Darren Criss fan ever since a friend of mine in the US (I'm in the UK) saw him in a bar and sent me some of his music a year and a bit ago. The fact he did AVPM/S and all the Starkid stuff was cool enough ... now he's in my favorite show - well, it's kinda mindblowing :D_**

**_I really hope you like this story. It's my little way of honouring all of the firsts and things Kurt wants and deserves. He's my favourite character (even when he's being a whiney little bitch) alongside Emma and Brittany and now Blaine so it killed me when he talked about his prom and wanting to hold hands with someone and that nobody understands. *sob*_**  
**_Please feel free to send con-crit my way and leave any comments under reviews to let me know if you want me to continue._**  
**_I LOVE so many of the stories here so thought I'd add my own as I haven't written fanfic for a little while :D_**  
**_Thanks for reading xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_**

Kurt was young, he was painfully aware of that fact. He was inexperienced, clueless and confused. He sat in his room feeling the white walls more than usual – they were cold and stark like his mood. There wasn't anything to cheer him up and his night stretched ahead of him painfully long and empty. Exactly what a troubled mind did not need.

Leaving McKinley was one of the hardest things he'd ever done and sitting alone knowing he had to adjust to a new school, a new world and a completely new life at Dalton Academy ... well he wasn't sure he had the energy for that.

He was insecure. Yes he wore Marc Jacobs about as fiercely as physically possible and quiffed his hair off his face to show off his well earned pale but porcelain skin ... he had no problems with his appearance, the problem lay inside. He fell asleep, most nights, dreaming about the things that so many others took for granted. Like when Rachel would hug Finn's arm during Glee club and lay her head on his shoulder or when Quinn would reach out for Sam's hand as they walked down the halls during change-over. It was all Kurt wanted, to experience those mundane things. To Kurt they were anything but mundane ... they were so achingly important that he felt as if part of him was missing without them.

As he sat, tub of cream in one hand, his other brushing the hair off his forehead to begin his nightly routine, his phone buzzed on the table beside him.

Is it true what everyone at Dalton's talking about? Are you transferring here? B

Kurt frowned a little. He hadn't text Blaine to let him know, partly because he was still trying to choke back the reality of leaving his own normality and partly because he was scared of Blaine's reaction.

Yes. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. It all happened so fast. K

Kurt, you have nothing to be sorry about. What happened? That guy again? B

Kurt's stomach tensed. Karovsky was the last person he wanted to think about.

Yes. Things got out of hand before the wedding and he threatened me. I can't stay there anymore. K

You ok? B

I'm alright I guess. Nothing like the sound of Celine to sooth away your worries, eh? K

Blaine chuckled as he read the last message. He sat, in dark pajama pants and a pale blue t-shirt, on his bed, the orange glow from his lamp and Wes' laptop screen were the only sources of light but the room felt cosy around him. He thought of Kurt in his white-wash room and something tugged inside. It wasn't fair.

Haha. I'm more of a Barbara guy myself but never EVER tell Wes that. You alone? B

Kurt smiled and discarded his nightly routine to climb under the covers. He had little energy as it was and the fact Blaine was even on the other end of the phone was enough to calm him slightly.

Yes. Dad and Carole went away for the weekend instead of their honeymoon. Finn's at Rachel's this weekend too ... something about meeting her dads. Why? K

Blaine considered his options for a second.

"Wes?"

"Yea dude?" Wes asked, swivelling around in his chair, his feet still propped up on his desk.

"You alright with us having a visitor tonight?"

Wes smiled and rolled his eyes. "Is Blaine playing the white knight again?"

Blaine could feel a smattering of blush creeping up his cheeks. It was rare but impossible to stop.

"Shut up. I'm trying to do the right thing. We all know what a mess I was when I got here. The guy needs a friend right now."

"Well, you said it," Wes teased and turned to face Blaine's bed fully, "he definitely transferring then?"

Blaine smiled. "How did you know I was talking about Kurt?"

"Dude, you really have no self awareness. You've got that lopsided goofy smile goin' on. Anyway, I'm nearly finished this paper then I'm taking Kate out for a meal so invite away... you know you were going to anyway."

"So true. Just being polite, not that you even know the meaning of the word Wesley."

Wes laughed, sticking his tongue out at his roommate. Their level of comfort with each other knew no bounds. "Just shut up and text him back. Put us all out of our misery."

Blaine did just that.

You don't have to be alone. Just giving you the option. You could stay here if you wanted? It's Saturday tomorrow so I can show you around Dalton. Wes doesn't mind. B

Kurt wasn't tired. It was only 8pm but bed seemed like the only logical option on a night so stretched out and lonely it was painful to comprehend doing anything else. He glanced down at his phone as another messaged beeped in. As he read it, his stomach tightened and eyes widened. He was desperate for company and Blaine for company was just about the top of his wish list.

Are you sure? K

Wouldn't ask if I wasn't B

Kurt grinned at Blaine's smiley face feeling a little light headed. He could feel his skin prickle with a smidgen of excitement but still, the pressure in his head and twinges of sadness seemed to mask them still. He needed to get out and he had the perfect chance.

Thank you. I'll be there as soon as I can. K

Blaine smiled, big and bright before jumping off his bed to tidy up, mainly Wes' half of the room.

"So he said yes then?" Wes asked with a smile.

"That obvious?" Blaine asked, throwing a discarded sock back onto Wes' side of the room.

"Painfully," Wes stated, his eyes rolling again as he took in Blaine's sudden frantic need to tidy up.

...

It wasn't long before Kurt crept up the driveway to Dalton Academy, the snow falling in saucer sized flakes on the hood of his car. He'd opted for a more comfortable ensemble to travel in and glanced down self consciously at his dark jeans and navy cashmere jumper. Dalton was a place of money and Kurt felt just a little bit insecure.

As he parked his car and tentatively stepped through the snow, he felt nervous. Blaine was so nice, so kind and so comforting which was exactly what Kurt cherished but it was the fact that this was all so new, he wasn't so sure what he was doing. Blaine was clearly a good guy, an amazing guy, but Kurt knew himself. He was quick to fall. His head felt stuffed with worry, fear and confusion so that there wasn't room for anything else. The fact that a cute, handsome, kind, generous, caring, beautiful, clever and talented guy had invited him over was mind-blowing and Kurt wasn't sure he knew how the hell to behave. He clung to the feeling of gratitude and took a deep breath before ringing the bell.

The icy air around him stung his skin. Kurt pulled his scarf up further and waited in the darkness.

As the door opened, the first thing Kurt noticed was the heat. It washed over his exposed skin making him shudder. Kurt blinked at the light before his eyes re focused revealing Blaine in a light grey sweater and loose dark pants.

"Hey!" His smile was bright and distinctive. Kurt couldn't help but smile over the ridge of his scarf.

"Hi."

Blaine pulled the door back further and gestured inside. "You coming in or you going to stand there and freeze to death even more?"

Kurt shook his head a little. It was all he could do to move. His eyes dragged themselves away from Blaine's uncharacteristically curly hair. Kurt wasn't sure how to breathe anymore. He stepped inside the door as it closed behind him and glanced around.

Blaine watched Kurt as he took in every detail. It was plainly obvious that Kurt had spent most of the day upset, his usually bright wide eyes were slightly darker and his forehead crinkled in a way which spoke of exhaustion.

"You hungry?" Blaine asked to break the silence.

Kurt didn't hear him. He soaked in the warmth, let his eyes flicker from the rich wooden panelling to the ornate wall sconces and finally back to Blaine who was staring at him questioningly. His breath caught again as he remembered he was standing in his coat and scarf still.

"Oh sorry. I was erm... sorry, did you say something?"

Blaine chuckled lightly and reached out for Kurt's scarf. Kurt froze. He let his eyes follow Blaine's hands as they tugged the wool free and looped it over his head. He felt Blaine's hand tug his coat over his shoulders. There was that feeling again. It shocked Kurt every time. Someone wanted to take care of him, no questioned asked.

Blaine returned from the coat rack and smiled. "Earth to Kurt..."

Kurt blinked alert. "I'm so sorry. Thank you. It's just this place..."

Blaine grinned and followed Kurt's eyes. "Yea it's pretty special. Especially around Christmas. Hogwarts right?"

Kurt laughed. "You took the words right out of my mouth."

"You wanna come up?" Blaine asked, pointing towards the staircase

Kurt nodded slightly and glanced up from under his eyelashes. His lips quirked into a miniscule smile, one which was not lost on Blaine. Kurt felt a warm hand press lightly against his lower back causing his skin to flush and his spine to shiver.

Kurt felt shy. His head reeled. "Erm yes, that'd be nice," was all he could manage as Blaine smiled at him again, setting his brown eyes on Kurt.

"I know this place can seem pretty daunting. I can see it in your eyes, but I promise it gets easier. I mean, like I said, us Warblers are rock stars and well, you have the lead singer on your side, what more could you want?" Blaine joked with a wink. Kurt could feel his skin burn. It was too much. Blaine wasn't real, it wasn't possible. Nobody did this, not in Kurt's world. People glared, taunted, rolled their eyes, dismissed, teased, pushed, judged and fought. It was always a battle but here, with Blaine, things felt easy... simple.

Kurt remembered to breathe and let his eyes slide up to meet Blaine's.

"Thank you."

Blaine smirked, full of warmth, and nodded. "I get it. I really do."

Kurt frowned and let out a nervous laugh. "I don't think anyone ever has." He didn't know why he said it but there was something in Blaine's eyes, something in the way his hand lay protective and warm on Kurt's back that made him believe it was ok.

"Well, now they do."

Kurt could feel himself staring, his eyes fixed and dreamily holding their gaze on Blaine's. All he could do was nod and offer a small smile of appreciation.

Blaine chuckled a little and closed his eyes momentarily. He couldn't stand the look in Kurt's eyes or the fact that all he wanted to do was kill whoever made someone so gentle and quirky and ... cute, so damn frightened. Kurt didn't deserve any of it.

"Come on, Wes' gone out. He has a coffee machine and I have a stack of DVDs so cheesy you'll judge me when you see them."

Kurt relaxed a little as he followed Blaine up the stairs and further into the expanse of heat and comfort that was Dalton Academy, trying to desperately fight off a silly smile of happiness and the urge to reach out to hold onto Blaine and never let go.


	2. Learning

_**Thank you all SO much for all of your reviews and messages and alerts. Kinda shocked me to be honest! :D**_  
_**I wanted to do this little chapter before anything else because Kurt's nerves are always going to be something to overcome, plus, I had that little moment when Blaine slides the coffee towards Kurt and Kurt mouths "thank you" in THE cutest way imagineable. It's small and impossibly sweet and BECAUSE it's so tentative and Kurt looks almost overwhelmed by a small gesture... I imagine him taking a little while to get used to things. Plenty of fluff to come. **_  
_**Really hope you enjoy :D Also, for those who haven't seen Breakfast in Tiffany's... search Henry Manchini for Moon River. It's dreamy 3 xxx**_

Kurt is speechless. As they made their way up the large sweeping staircase, he glances sideways sneakily into open doors framed by light. Inside, guys are playing on Xboxes, listening to music, one guy is strumming his guitar and another iss working out. He can hear laughing from one end of the corridor and can detect the lingering smell of food. It's homely, it's the only word to use.

"I'm going to apologise for the mess in our room. Wes is a pig."

Kurt chuckles, relaxing a little. It feels nice to not have to worry about what he was going to say or do. Blaine is a cool guy, one that's so mindlessly easy to be with. The only problem is that breathing seems to be a struggle. Being so close to him and the prospect of a whole night only in Blaine's company is terrifying and exciting all at once. It's all brand new.

As they enter Blaine's room, Kurt can't help but smile. It's not lost on Blaine as he drops down into Wes' desk chair and swings around proudly.

"You like?" he asks as Kurt's eyes fall gradually on random parts of the room. He can tell Kurt has relaxed a little, his shoulders aren't tense anymore and the little grin on his face is natural.

"I like," Kurt replies, his fingers unable to resist reaching out to touch the throw on Blaine's bed. Egyptian Cotton, he muses, Blaine owns Egyptian cotton. Wow.

"Nice isn't it?"

Kurt nods a reply, still in awe. He notices Blaine's book shelf (ranging impressively from classics to modern crime novels with the entire set of Harry Potter and a sprinkling of foreign literature) and smiles gradually as he spots Blaine's DVDs.

"Wow. I mean, wow," Kurt breathes out, kneeling down beside the small cupboard in the corner of the room.

"Told you it was cheesy," Blaine laughs, perching on the edge of the desk above Kurt, "we can watch one if you'd like?"

" Are you sure, I mean I don't want to stop you from doing school work or sleeping or..."

Blaine smiles and takes the DVD Kurt is holding out of his hand. "Breakfast at Tiffany's, eh?"

Kurt feels a little blush creep up his cheek. It's a bit of a shock. Finn had complained all of the way through "The Way We Were" when Kurt had attempted to educate him in the ways of Miss Streisand whilst secretly swooning inside over Robert Redford. His dad had yawned and fallen asleep in his chair prompting Finn to lose interest and playing on his Iphone.

"You like Audrey Hepburn?" Kurt asks quietly.

"Are you kidding me? She's spectacular," Blaine croons, flopping down on his bed after sliding the DVD in his player.

"I know, right? Only Audrey can rock a man's shirt and tassle ear plugs. I'd secretly always wanted to turn a bath tub into a sofa if I ever get my own place."

Blaine can see Kurt's eyes sparkling as he talks. The light from the bed lamp refracts in the blue of Kurt's eyes. It's nice to see him animated.

"Favourite scene?" Blaine asks, noticing Kurt isn't too sure where to sit, as the soothing sound of "Moon River" drifts into the expanse of space between them.

"Toss up between the party Holly throws and the scene where she sings on her stoop," Kurt replies, reeling in the awesomeness of the conversation. He is still, however, standing awkwardly to the side of Blaine's bed.

"Think mine has got to be the end. Gets me everytime," Blaine smiles genuinely making Kurt's heart flutter. His eyes are truly enchanting, Kurt muses dreamily. "I won't bite you know." Blaine pats the bed beside him.

Kurt snaps back into the room from inside his head. "Oh sorry, yea, ok," Kurt stutters, slowly lowering himself beside Blaine.

"Although I guess the scene with George Peppard in a sheet isn't bad either," Blaine states easily with a wink in Kurt's direction.

Kurt has to laugh. He hasn't talked guys with many people before. He'd keep it to himself or possibly mention it to Mercedes but Blaine is so comfortable with everything that it feels incredible.

"Oh god I know. What I wouldn't give to be Audrey in that scene. I mean, that kiss, in the rain. The poor cat is nearly crushed. I guess we can dream right?" Kurt babbles.

Blaine laughs loudly as he pushes himself back to lean against the wall, his legs crossed underneath him. He looks so snuggly making Kurt's fingers twitch. It is impossible to resist. "Have you seen The Way We Were?"

Kurt can barely believe it. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Oh my god Blaine. You like old movies?"

"I love old movies. Especially ones with Robert Redford."

"Oh my god," Kurt rushes out, a little too loudly, "you're like my new favourite person."

Blaine's smile just about floors him. He's teetering on the brink of bliss as he settles himself against the wall following Blaine's lead. "I'm glad to hear it!"

Kurt blushes a bit. "I mean, well, I just don't know anyone else who loves all of that stuff like I do. My cultural references are usually lost on people. I once suggested that we use choreography from Fred Astairre and Ginger Rogers to which Finn replied 'that's those dudes who used to dance together right?"

"Oh god." Blaine mutters, stifling a laugh.

"Exactly. This is what I live with." Kurt edges a little closer to Blaine as the lamp casts a glow on the screen but as his hand digs into the quilt to help him shuffle, it brushes Blain's arm. He can't stop the automatic reaction as he jumps and blushes furiously.

Blaine can sense every tiny movement Kurt makes. He knows he's nervous, he knows he isn't used to being alone with a guy and, after years of living in boarding rooms and spending days and nights with guys of all persuasions, he is damn sure he'll do everything he can to stop Kurt from freaking out. It's incredibly cute though, he decides to himself.

"Sorry," Kurt whispers and turns to face the screen again.

Blaine turns his head toward Kurt and smiles. Kurt feels his stomach tighten deliciously. It's all a little too much.

"You feeling any better?" Blaine asks. Kurt can almost feel the warmth in his voice. It's velvet and more reassuring than he is sure Blaine realises.

Kurt sighs and relaxes into the cushion behind him. "Much better. Thank you. Honestly."

He doesn't dare look at Blaine. He knows that he'd be unable to breathe if he does so he focuses on the screen.

"I know I'm kind of still a stranger to you but I just want you to know, I understand. I understand it all and I'm always a drive away or on the other end of a phone if you need someone."

Kurt has to look. His head moves in automaton as his eyes fix themselves on Blaine's. He isn't sure if he's going to cry or laugh as Blaine doesn't look away or blink or anything, he just sits there. A look so honest and deep that it's physically impossible to stop himself from sighing.

"It's funny because you don't seem like a stranger to me."

"I don't?" Blaine asks, ignoring the movie and intently watching the subtle ways Kurt's eyes flicker and reveal every single emotion inside. It's fascinating.

"No you seem really familiar to me. I don't know, maybe I'm going a little mad. It's been a tough couple of weeks and now I'm sounding like a bit of a stalker." He feels himself cringe inwardly.

Blaine makes a little noise of amusement. "I could do a lot worse in a stalker," he jokes, his hand reaching up to brush a curl from his temple. Kurt's heart quickens as he watches every miniscule movement.

"I'm going to shut up now," Kurt whispers, embarrassed. 'What the hell is wrong with you?' he thinks, be normal, be normal. It's like a mantra. His feisty edge feels dampened by nerves and stifled by his own stupid brain.

"Kurt?"

"Yea?" Kurt turns to look at Blaine, who is shuffling to face him and staring intently.

"If you're uncomfortable, you have to tell me ok?" Blaine mumbles, a little awkwardly himself. Being acutely aware of Kurt's present situation and the way his privacy and choices have been invaded left right and centre, Blaine is damned sure he's not going to add to it.

Kurt sighs, his hands playing with eachother in his lap and his eyes never leaving them. "I'm not uncomfortable, I just... you're so kind to me and this kind of thing doesn't happen to me very often. Well, never." His eyes slide up to meet the pair opposite. They're so searching and understanding that it's overwhelming.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, this. Watching DVDs. Sitting with someone. Talking." Kurt is painfully aware of how tragic it sounds.

Blaine's heart hurts. Surely Kurt's being modest. "I'm sure that's not true."

Kurt blinks up at him. "It's completely true. I mean, I go out with Mercedes, she's my friend from school, but I've spent a lot of time looking after my dad recently and well, I haven't exactly had people clawing my door down to spend time with me, so..."

Blaine is speechless but Kurt continues. "I mean I have my Glee friends, if you can really call them that. Puck spent most of last year throwing me into dumpsters and Quinn, now she's back as head cheerleader, barely looks at me, Rachel and I share a healthy competition but most of the time I want to strangle her pretty little neck..."

"High school's just impossible if you're as unique as you are," Blaine stated matter-of-factly.

"Now you're just trying to make me blush," Kurt mumbles, his eyes peeking up at Blaine's to make sure he hasn't crossed a line. They are met with a gorgeous dazzling smile and a cheeky roll of the eyes.

"Well, it's working," Blaine teases, nudging Kurt's shoulder with his own, "anyway, it's completely true. You're so freakin' stylish that most girls are probably jealous. I had to google someone of the people you spoke about last week... designers, right? You've got a voice to kill for and well, you've got more culture in your baby finger than most people collect over a lifetime. This is from someone who has known you a matter of weeks..."

Kurt smiles down at his lap. "Thanks."

"Just speaking the truth. Oh god, the sheet scene... I swear I can't stand so much handsome at once," Blaine groans pleasurably making Kurt's insides knot in a way he can barely deal with.

"Do you own 'The Way We Wer-"

"It's going on next," Blaine laughs out, snuggling down into his duvet.

Kurt strokes the Egyptian cotton between his fingers and settles back against the wall, his shoulder millimetres from Blaine's but close enough to feel the warmth coming from him. His head is reeling and palms feel clammy but he's so content it's beyond description. Content... he had forgotten the meaning of the word but because of Blaine, it's all he can think of.


	3. Hot Chocolate at Midnight

_**Ok, so I have a thing about curls AND glasses so this is shameless, it really is... BUT dapper Blaine and Blaine in uniform makes me feel less guilty about it because, well, it suits him! Also, Darren's curls... well, need I say more? the first time I saw him back in 2009, I think I fell in love with his hair first, then he opened his mouth... *sigh***_

_**Thank you SO much for your kind words and reviews. I'm pleased you like it. Hope you enjoy this one... little more of those moments Kurt hasn't experienced yet. xx**_

Kurt has been lying on the sofa bed for hours without a wink of sleep. His eyes are beginning to feel heavy but he can't close them. It's the images that flood in, they're the reason he's so reluctant. Karovsky's just one guy, he's one guy who terrifies Kurt more than he can say but that's not the worse of it. There are others and Kurt knows there are. He's heard things, seen things, felt things that all point to there being worse out there and as he feels his eyelids droop and slide closed, his steadfast confidence and fighting spirit falter.

...

"Kurt! Hey, Kurt...!"

He can hear a noise, a strangled kind of cry, but it's far away.

"Kurt, hey open your eyes."

Kurt obeys as a warm hand rests on his shoulder, teasing him out of a rough sleep. "Hmmm?" As his eyes open, Blaine's sitting beside the couch, his eyes filled with concern.

"You ok? I know you're not meant to wake people up when they're dreaming but I wasn't going to let you get more upset." His hand rests on Kurt's shoulder still, solid and unwavering. Kurt can barely move, his eyes are damp and his hands in fists. Confusion floods his mind, pushing out the horrible thoughts.

"I'm sorry... I didn't know what I was doing... erm, what was I doing?" he asks, shuffling onto his side awkwardly so that Blaine becomes a silhouette in the pale glean from the windows. It's still so dark, which makes Kurt feel even worse for causing a fuss.

"I'm guessing it was a nightmare. You have them often?" Blaine asks, his head tilted slightly in a way which makes Kurt feel small and feeble. It's not the way he usually sees himself but in the early hours of the morning, it's all he can do to fight the bad things away.

"Sometimes," Kurt replies, knowing Blaine will read into it what is intended. Nightmares are normal, part of losing your mother and being taunted religiously throughout high school. They're part of the package.

"That's not good. Have you done anything about it?" Blaine asks, settling himself in a sitting position.

Kurt's eyes flicker elsewhere, avoiding Blaine's intense gaze at any cost. "Not really, I can usually cope with them. No big deal." He shrugs it off feeling a fraud. It's all lies.

"It's a huge deal Kurt and you know it is. I know it is. I know how hard it is to have all of these feelings inside of you and hold it all in. There comes a time when it has to come out."

He can't help but smile at those final words. "No pun intended right?" Kurt asks with a weak grin, his eyes flickering down then peering up under long eyelashes.

Blain's heart can barely stand it. It's like looking in a mirror from 2 years ago. He simply wants to soothe the bad stuff, take it away and help Kurt the same way others helped him ... eventually.

Blaine is silent for a moment. Kurt lies still, his eyes taking in the other boy's mussed curls and the way his t-shirt is pulled further off one shoulder. It's weird and incredible all at once. He feels childish as he blushes when Blaine stands, the same t-shirt failing to fall lower than his pants and exposing skin. Grow up, Kurt tells himself, stop being ridiculous, but it's impossible. Blaine is a presence, he's a force and he's indescribably mesmerising in a way Kurt is sure is not down to his childish tendency to fall easily.

"You know in movies when there's a boarding school? There's always that one scene where they sneak out of their dorms at night and raid a fridge or drink hot chocolate or something?"

This was not what Kurt was expecting. He blinks up at Blaine's smile. "Um, yea?"

"Well, you're about to see what it's like for real," Blaine winks as Kurt finds his feet.

...

"Shut up! You played football?" Blaine laughs, his eyes sparkling in the orange glow of the overhead lamp. They're sitting in the common room, Kurt in one of Blaine's bottle green hoodies, which he is sure makes him look like a blimp but he doesn't care. It smells like heaven. Kurt can feel himself growing jealous of Blaine's obviously expensive thick knit jumper but keeps his fashion envy to himself.

Kurt can feel himself blushing. "Yes. I was pretty damn good too. I taught the whole team to dance which was an experience. Their brains don't extend past their... well, you get what I mean. Their feet ... no way do they control them. You should have seen how terrible they were but it was pretty fun."

Blaine sips his hot chocolate with a grin painted on his face that hasn't moved for an hour. He peers over the rim of the mug at a very different Kurt. He can't help but succumb to the feeling that keeps tugging at his chest as Kurt speaks. It's so obvious he's lightyears ahead of most gay guys of his age, so proud, so unique and unapologetic, so achingly honest in his expression. The fact Kurt's in his clothes only makes matters harder to deal with.

"You're way stronger than you think, you know?" Blaine offers, breaking the easy flow of conversation with sharp truth.

Kurt blinks back, his eyes failing to believe a word Blaine is saying. "I'm not ashamed of who I am. Never have been really, unless you count the time I tried to change to please my dad, but I don't want to be frightened to be that person... to be me."

Blaine nods slowly, his eyes fixed on Kurt's attempting to show him that he gets it, he really really does.

"You don't have to be. Things will get better. I promise... not that me promising is any comfort." Blaine feels an awkward twitch in his face, one that's guaranteed to give away how exposed he feels and how he's incapable of being guarded with Kurt.

"It is actually," Kurt offers with a smile so genuine that Blaine's heart flutters, a feeling he hasn't had for a long time.

"Good, he rushes out, "now why don't you tell me about this football game some more. I want details..."

...

"Thank you," Kurt whispers as they head back into Blaine's room and quietly close the door behind them. Kurt looks so vulnerable and innocent and everything he should, which Blaine knows is what he admires most about him, however, even in the darkness he can see the spark in Kurt's eyes, the one that Blaine is sure is responsible for his courage so far.

"You don't need to thank me for anything."

"You're so damn nice though, you're like... you're like some sort of superhero or something," Kurt stutters out, aware of the fact he's got no control over his mouth anymore.

Blaine almost chokes on his laugh. "You're way off," he says with a shake of his head. Kurt watches, enthralled by the way his eyelashes fall and the way his hand nervously plays with his hair for a second. He wants to reach out and touch it again, knowing that this is the closest he's ever gotten to another guy without them wishing to run a mile or beat him to a pulp. "Although, if I was to be a superhero...?"

Kurt laughs, his mind racing to Sam's collection of nerdy comic books. "Superman. Think you could pull off the Clark Kent glasses," he giggles, flopping down on the sofa bed as he watches Blaine rifle through his drawer. It's all he can do to hold onto the arm of the chair as Blaine turns around in thick rimmed black glasses with a smile so goofy and beautiful he can't breathe.

"Wow," he breathes out without thinking.

"Exactly, awful, huh? There's a reason I wear contacts," Blaine jokes, taking them off and throwing them back into his cupboard. Kurt wants to protest and tell Blaine that under no circumstances and in no universe is it awful and that he looks cute and nerdy and totally unstylish but it's real and it's quirky and heart achingly adorable.

"There's a reason I had a poster of Christopher Reeves in glasses on my wall when I was younger, and it wasn't, like I told my dad, because Superman was 'awesome' ..." Kurt isn't sure he should be saying this because it's suggesting way more than is appropriate but his heart is hammering so fast in his chest that it's hard to ignore.

Blaine doesn't move for a moment and just simply looks at Kurt, his eyes smiling even if his lips don't move from their miniscule pout. He glances down as a slow but steady smirk crosses his face. When his eyes level again, he's staring at Kurt so intently that Kurt is sure he can feel his gaze on his skin through his long sleeved t-shirt. "Are you feeling better?" he asks finally, breaking the silence and tension only for a second.

Kurt smiles, teeth and dimples, (completely not the most demure thing he's ever done) and nods. He's giddy and terrified all at once but the fact Blaine snuggles himself down under the covers in his bed and turns to face Kurt, propping a pillow under his head for a better view and they talk till the very very early hours ... well, it's enough to reassure Kurt that there is absolutely nothing to be frightened about.


	4. First Day

**_Thank you all so much for your LOVELY messages and comments. I do try and reply back to things if I can! Sorry for the delay in updating, I've had my professional legal term one finals so it's been a BUSY week BUT I am free for Christmas now and ready to spend some down time... :)_**

**_I hope you are enjoying it- this one has less Blaine and Kurt direct interaction but it's something I felt needed to happen. The next chapter is pretty much all them :D TRYING to right the catastrophic cockup that was "Special Education" ... I mean, Chris was flawless as usual and Kurt killed every scene AND the Warblers are as fascinating as ever AND Darren's wonderful BUT the GLARING inconsistencies were so irritating. It was such a random and bi polar episode and I pray to god Mr Murphy sorts it out and gets Blaine back on track. *having faith* SO, some of this is kinda to remedy that but it'll be touched upon later. PLEASE ENJOY xxx_**

**A week later  
**  
Kurt felt the nerves churning his stomach as he pleased Burt by nibbling at a breakfast snack. It's apricot and mango but to Kurt it may as well be cyanide and rat poison... it made him feel sick. He couldn't concentrate, his hands wringing at every chance. He never let it show though.

"How are you feeling about your first day?" Burt asked, eyeing his son from the side to spot any tell-tale signs of worry.

"Good. First days are always weird," Kurt said, his voice perky to perfection.

"Well, I want every detail later," Burt said, grabbing a cookie, "and I bet you have a great day, that school's going to be good for you kiddo, I just know it."

Kurt smiled, leaning over to take the cookie out of Burt's hand in one swift movement. "Thanks dad, means a lot," he replied sweetly, "but doesn't mean you get a free pass to eat that. Here... this is much better for you."

Kurt handed him a fruit bar which Burt poked and prodded as if it was an ignition valve. "Why did I get a kid who knows so much?"

Kurt laughed, placing his brown leather satchel over his shoulder and positioning in place with his blazer. "Guess you're lucky, eh?" he sang as he passed Burt, only stopping momentarily to plant a quick kiss on his cheek.

...

Ready for your first day in the lion's den? ;) B

Kurt smiled, shaking his head, as he slowly pulled out of his driveway and started onto the road. His mind, tangled and stressed, still couldn't shake the wonderful knowledge of how comfortable they'd gotten with each other recently. After his stay over with Blaine and a week's worth of pretty much constant contact, Kurt felt as if he had a true friend, one who doesn't judge, one who even isn't afraid to walk with Kurt down the street even if Kurt decides to choose to wear tight purple jeans and a blazer, complete with a bow tie so pink it hurts. Blaine's easy going, it's his charm and Kurt, well he's entirely under its spell.

The one thing he has learned is about Blaine's sneaky sense of humour, the teasing, the sarcasm and the way he can sound so serious even when he's talking rubbish. It's an art Kurt is sure has taken a while to perfect but one which, over time, Kurt has decided he likes most about Blaine. Plus he's smart, the kind of smart that isn't taught, it's inherent. He's serious too, which Kurt admires, but there's something hidden there, something behind Blaine's eyes that makes Kurt desperate to crawl inside and read his mind.

"Oh look who it is?" comes a voice behind him as he walked down the path towards the entrance of Dalton Academy.

He turned to find Wes sauntering up behind him, blazer a little unkempt and tie cooly loose, all topped off with a trademark smirk.

"I could say the same about you," Kurt replied confidently with a smile. It works.

"Oh man we're gonna get on, I can tell," Wes laughed, slapping Kurt on the back, "I just knew after last weekend that you'd fit in just fine."

Kurt frowned dramatically at the spot where Wes has just slapped and then planted his accusing eyes on the perputrator. It's a moment so defining in their relationship that Kurt had to laugh. Plus, the way Wes said 'fit in' made Kurt's heart swell more than it would other normal people.

"So, who've you got first period?" Wes asked, falling into step beside Kurt.

Pulling a perfectly folded note from his pocket, Kurt read, "Mr Peterson. What's he like?"

Wes scowled. "Yea, pretty much the school bastard. Not a great start. Who next?"

"Mr Madison?"

"Oh what? I've been trying to get into his classes for the past two years. He's awesome. Wears bow ties that'd kick your little collection into submission," Wes teased with a wink as they enter the hallway.

"Bet his aren't courtesy of Paul Smith," Kurt muttered under his breath.

"Who?" Wes replied before he wandered to a table to the right of the hallway to sign in.

Kurt could barely take it all in. Dalton being both beautiful, imposing, enchanting and serious all at once. People were milling around, all in blazers and ties, all so smart but with an air of freedom. Kurt had to admit, he missed wearing whatever the hell he liked but there was something comforting in the fact that the blazers are equalisers, guaranteed to help him fit in. He smiled and turned, wondering where Wes had gone. He suddenly felt very alone and unsure even in the comforting setting.

"Looking for someone?"

Kurt turned quickly. Of course, he thought, there's that white knight syndrome again. He was almost speechless though as he takes in Blaine's appearance. He hadn't seen him in uniform for a long time and it messed with his ability to breathe instantly. Blaine's hair was neat and tidy, his blazer perfectly pressed and his tie so straight that it's almost infuriating how pristine he looked. Kurt's mind wandered to only a matter of days ago when he sat sipping hot drinks with Blaine in a cable knit sweater, navy lounge pants and unruly curls. Kurt wasn't sure how he felt about this version of Blaine but regardless, he struggled with basic coherence.

"Kurt?"

He blinked out of his daydream instantly. "Hi!"

"You ok?"

Kurt smiled. "Never better. Pretty sure I'm the poorest kid here though."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "No way, half of these guys just know how to blag it, plus I've seen your labels.

Kurt frowned playfully. "I'm starting to realise you've got an answer to everything."

"Just part of my charm," Blaine replied with a quick wink as he spotted Wes. "Hey Wes, you're ok to sit with Kurt in Peterson's right?"

"Yea, sure, you can help me work out my plan to staple things to his head. Always passes the time."

Kurt laughed, noticing Blaine's half smile. It was fun and lighthearted but Kurt couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed.

"Awesome. Well, I guess I'll see you at lunch then?" Blaine asked, his eyes focused expectantly on Kurt who offered a frantic nod in reply.

As Blaine disappeared down the hallway, Kurt wasn't all too sure how he felt. It's a rush of emotion so confusing that he barely listened in class, barely focused during break and found it intensely difficult to make a single decision when in the lunch line.

It's all so rigid and structured and Kurt felt like a tiny metal ball in a maze being sent one place then moved to another all without any real grasp of his own. He knew it was better than a life of fear at McKinley but his heart wasn't quite settled. Dalton felt very different now that it was a reality and not a dream.

"Earth to Kurt?"

Kurt blinked awake again, mentally noting that was is the fourth time that'd happened all day.

"Oh sorry, different world."

Wes could see the kid's confusion, it wa painted like a confession all over his face and he got it, he saw it in all of the new kids.

"So Kurt," he started, sitting at a table in the grand dining hall with a kick of the wooden stool, "what do you like to do in your spare time?"

Kurt felt the slight shock at being asked such a question. Not being wholly used to having an interest shown, he stumbled on his first words before answering, "I love to sing, I love to dance and um, I guess I like fashion, Broadway, interior design and anything that keeps me busy."

"Blaine invited you to sing for The Warblers?" Wes asked, stabbing a carrot with his fork and smiling as he chewed.

"Oh, no he hasn't said anything specific. To be honest, I don't think he really knows I can sing yet."

"You any good," Wes pushed, smirking with the straw of his soda in his mouth. Kurt was mesmerised by the sheer amount of food and liquids being consumed before his eyes by one small human.

"I am actually," Kurt stated cooly before remembering where he was, "um, well what I mean is that I adore singing. It makes me happy and keeps me going. I used to sing in my old school's Glee Club when a certain other girl wasn't taking my chance for solos."

Wes chuckled. "Competition?"

"Oh yea," Kurt replied, shaking his head, "she's the very definition of the word. I don't know, I think we have this connection though, we're pretty similar in a lot of ways which I think is why we clashed so much. I'll always want to shove my scarf in her mouth to shut her up but she's spectacular when she performs. They all are ... my, um, my friends at McKinley."

Kurt felt a sadness pinch in a way he didn't expect. He looked down at his food, then down to his blazer and tie then finally up into Wes' eyes and he knew he was giving everything away.

Wes' look was searching. He could see the conflict written all over Kurt's face but before he could ask anything, the chair beside Kurt was pulled back and occupied.

"So, new kid, how was your first morning?" Kurt physically jumped, the motion of the neighbouring chair snapping him instantly out of his own head. Blaine raised his eyebrows in feigned shock. "Hey, you ok?"

Kurt felt suddenly dizzy, his head reeling and a dull ache forming across his forehead. He could barely look into Blaine's eyes and avoided Wes' at all costs. "I'm fine. I'm sorry," he started, standing up and piling his tray to one side of the table, "I'm just going to go get some air for a moment. Sorry."

Blaine watched as Kurt all but ran out of the hall.

"He's going to struggle," Wes stated, throwing a grape into his mouth.

Blaine frowned and shook his head. "No, he's going to do exactly the same as I did."

"Yea exactly, struggle."

Blaine let a wry smile taint his lips. "We all know what a mess I was before I came here and it took a while but I got used to this place, the rules, the way you have to think before you act and always consider someone else instead of focusing all on yourself. I was all about me and only me because it was all I could do to survive. Kurt is the same. I see it and I know how it feels."

Wes frowned. "Blaine, dude, you know I love you right... like a brother of course," Blaine scoffed and shook his head with a smile, "but you can't be everyone's knight on a trusty steed come to save the day. You've got your own life and shit to deal with."

"I know and I've got it under control. There's one thing I do know and that's how small and insignificant Kurt feels right now. I can't and won't sit back and let it happen to him. You've got to spend time with him... he's not shy, he's not timid and he's got serious spirit but he's had it beaten and exhausted out of him."

Wes studied his best friend's face, realising what a rare moment it was to see beyond the great facade of Blaine Thornton.

"I wanted, well, we all wanted to make sure you were ok, that's all."

Blaine nodded, feeling a swell of affection for his fellow Warblers. "I know and it means a lot but I know what I'm doing. Kurt needs a friend and he needs someone there for him because what he's doing isn't easy. This isn't his life, this is ours. He doesn't have a place here yet and coming from a school where you are taunted and kicked into submission with a desperate need to be cared for and understood, to a school where it's expected that you become part of the system and team ... he's just..."

"Lonely?" Wes offered.

"Exactly."

Wes stacked his tray on top of Kurt's and rested his head on his hands with a knowing smirk. "Yea well, I guess it doesn't hurt that he's almost your type to the last detail does it?"

Blaine almost choked on his food. "You go there and I swear I'll revert to old fashioned boarding rules... you're going to have to sleep with one eye open."

Wes laughed loudly. "I'll put it on ice."

"Keep it that way," Blaine forced with a humour-filled glare, "I mean it. I know you and I know David and George and Tom and Jack and all of the rest of you who would just love to meddle in my life but here's your warning. Do it and you die."

"Oooo fighting talk Yoda," Wes teased with a playful punch to Blaine's shoulder, knocking his straw from his mouth, "the fun we could have knocking our resident front man off his game and watching the fall out... with popcorn."

"I hate you," Blaine groaned, "go bother David."

Wes stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and smiled. "You couldn't hate me if you tried oh wise one," he laughed out as he walked past Blaine, letting his hand offer an impromptu ruffle of Blaine's perfectly positioned hair.


	5. New Surroundings

_**Thank you AGAIN for your lovely little messages. They really did make me smile and I'm so happy you like the story so far :D Hope you enjoy!**_

Kurt watched as the snow turned to sleet then back to snow then fell in sweeping drifts up the window pane. He'd stood there for some unknown length of time waiting for Burt and Finn to appear and secretly hoping they wouldn't ... the prospect of what was to happen was something Kurt wasn't sure he was ready for.

"Hi, are you ok?"

Kurt turned around sharply, his scarf falling from his neck awkwardly. He laughed with a hint of nerves. "Yes, yes I'm fine thank you."

The guy was tall and broad with shoulders so wide that Kurt knew he played football, it was obvious. The guy nodded and smiled, content with knowing that he'd done his good deed for the day, leaving Kurt standing in almost shock. He wasn't used to that... jocks being sweet and caring. It was in that moment he knew he'd made the right decision transferring to Dalton ... it didn't make it any easier though, knowing that.

As he turned, the image of Burt's van drifted into focus through the snow. Something in Kurt's stomach hurt.

"Hey new kid, need a hand?"

Kurt turned again, wondering who the hell it was now, to see Wes and David dressed in hats and scarves and coats pulled right up to their ears.

"Oh."

"Blaine mentioned that you were moving in tonight so we thought we'd lend some muscle."

It was all Kurt could do to stop himself from laughing at the image of David flexing and Wes nodding in appreciation at his best friend's 'guns'.

"Thank you but it's really not necessary, I've got my dad and Finn so I think we should be ok." Kurt felt awful but really, he was sure they just felt sorry for him.

"You can never have too much help," a voice said, as Blaine appeared from around the corner.

Kurt had made a promise to himself... don't fall in love with the first guy you meet. Don't cause another Finn-gate situation, don't be a child and let feelings take over. This was all well and good but it was hard, so damn hard when Blaine was around. It wasn't like Kurt could do anything about it, he was sure Blaine had simply platonic feelings for him stemming from some Samaritan-style need to care. Still, as Blaine turned the corner in a dark woollen black fitted coat, thick red cashmere (and Kurt knew his cashmere) scarf and his hair shaken out from its usual confines... Kurt didn't even know he had a voice anymore, or a brain, or the ability to function as a normal human being...

"H-hi," was all he stuttered out, feeling about a centimetre tall and entirely sure his face was childishly beetroot.

Blaine smiled, reaching for the door handle past Kurt. Kurt's stomach clenched at the proximity. "I suggest you use their well meant generosity because frankly they must like you... they passed up their weekly Wii tornament for this."

Kurt blushed furiously behind the scarf he'd pulled high. "Thank you," he almost whispered, his eyes shining.

"Never a problem," Blaine whispered in reply before stepping out into the snow.

"Kurt!" was all that could be heard before Kurt was swept up in the biggest bear hug imaginable.

"Hey Finn," he mumbled into the embrace with a chuckle.

"Dude this place is like Hogwarts or something," Finn sang loudly, snow settling on his hair. Kurt couldn't help but smile as he realised how much he'd missed his newly appointed older brother.

"Dad!" Kurt cried, jumping across the snow in a highly non-composed manner.

"Well if it isn't my son who I saw this morning," Burt said with a wide smile, "how was the first day?"

Kurt tried to put his game face on, smiling brightly. "It was good, dad, maybe a little awkward but I guess it's to be expected."

Burt pulled his son in for another hug, whispering into Kurt's perfectly styled hair for a moment. "It'll just take time, it'll work out, you'll see."

As Kurt was released, he felt tears prickle, hot and embarrassing. Burt smiled down, then glanced at the three boys left hovering a few metres away.

"Oh Dad this is Wes, David and erm, this is Blaine."

"Oh dude, you're Blaine. Kurt's mentioned you a lot," Finn said pulling Blaine's scarfed hand up and yanking it profusely in the most gregarious handshake Kurt was sure Blaine had ever been given.

Kurt flushed, trying to change the subject as Wes and David smirked in each other's direction. Blaine simply grinned, all lopsided and poised like some handsome lead in a movie ... he was... perfect.

"It's so nice to meet you, Kurt has told us all about you."

Finn made a noticeable "awwww" and slapped Kurt on the back awkwardly.

"So, are you three in Kurt's classes?" Burt asked, sizing them all up.

"No, Wes is in a lot of Kurt's classes and I'm in a couple but were in the Glee club here, The Warblers so we all mix outside of our academic groups a lot, sir."

Kurt smirked into his scarf. Blaine was painfully polite and Burt, a kicked back mechanic by trade and a guy who ate jerky from a packet as he sipped beer in front of the football , was not used to it.

"That sounds nice that there's time to socialise. Kurt spent more time talking about his songs and costumes and rehearsing dance numbers than he did even thinking about algebra or Spanish, didn't you? I mean I once came home and you were in that dance-tard thing with those girls doing that dance, what's it called?" Burt asked, frowning for the right answer.

Kurt wanted to die.

"Um dad, lets not go there right now ok?" he rushed out, his eyes flickering over Blaine, Wes and David, mortified.

"You never told me you dance," Blaine said, his cheeks now flushed from the cold. His face was calm, serene and with a simple hint of sparkle in his eyes.

Kurt dipped his head, burying his mouth in his scarf with his shoulders raised. "I'm more of a singer than a dancer."

Blaine smiled and shrugged, clearly impressed with Kurt's multi –talented nature.

"So, we gonna get you moved in or are we going to stand in the snow and contemplate the world some more?" Burt asked, dragging open the back of the van to expose Kurt's entire life packed into boxes.

"Wow, that's a lot of stuff Hummell," Wes said in shock.

"What can I say, I like... things."

Blaine laughed as he passed Kurt by and began off loading. They continued like that for a couple of hours until everything was emptied into Kurt's new room and Burt and Finn were ready to say goodbye. Kurt squeezed his father tight and even gave Finn and extra sold hug, being swamped by both as he did it. It was hard saying goodbye, seeing them drive off and leave him but he knew it was for the best.

Didn't make it any easier though.

Kurt was in his element at around 7:30pm. His room, situated luckily down the hall from Blaine and Wes, was shaping up well after hours of careful primping and preening. Kurt was sure he'd inhaled enough furniture polish to ensure a significant lung disease in later life but had masked it with his cherished pottery oil burner which was currently diffusing a subtle tangerine scent.

He'd organised his clothes first and foremost, taking them one by one out of the perfectly packed case and daintily hanging them in his large wooden closet. He frowned as he found creases, making a mental note to hunt down an iron. It was comforting being surrounded by his special things, the things that made him feel... Kurt.

"Oh... my god."

Kurt swung around to see Blaine, still in shirt and dress pants but with a looser tie and no blazer. Kurt breathed in deeply, trying to take supplies for when he was sure Blaine would render him incapable.

"Hi," Kurt offered, his shoulders swaying a little. He couldn't help feeling a little shy and coy in Blaine's presence, the guy was some sort of robot sent to shame Earth with his perfection.

"Hi yourself," Blaine smiled, stepping into the room and surveying the chaos, "this is like my idea of heaven."

Kurt smiled brightly, biting his lip. "Oh really? Why?"

"Why? Are you kidding me? Look at this stuff!"

Blaine reached out tentatively, sneaking a questioning glance at Kurt who nodded permission for him to touch. "These are incredible, my mom used to hand these from our French doors at home."

Kurt watched as Blaine twisted his crystals in his hands, touching them gently and marvelling at the way the dusky light caused them to twinkle. Kurt was sure there was nothing in the world to rival the beauty of that moment.

"Would you like them?" Kurt asked before he even knew what he was saying. He blushed.

Blaine peered up under his eyelashes. "Oh god Kurt don't be crazy. These are yours. I can help you hang them though if you'd like? You know ... cos you're so short." He winked at this, signalling he was teasing.

"You're like, what, three centimetres taller than me or something," Kurt snapped back with raised eyebrows.

Blaine laughed, reaching up to curl the threads of the crystals over Kurt's curtain track. "Three centimetres is still taller."

"Pedantic."

"Believe it," Blaine quipped with a wink as Kurt struggled to breathe again. His eyes were transfixed on Blaine as he leaned to the right, his arms straining to loop the threads causing his shirt to pull tight and... oh god, Kurt thought, oh god this is ridiculous. He busied himself with plugging in his iPod dock and slotting his treasured little machine into the relevant place.

Blaine stood back eventually and surveyed his handiwork. "Look good?"

Kurt turned. The crystals were hung in a gradient across Kurt's window, twisting in the pale pink light and sparkling patterns in every direction. It was beautiful.

"Thank you," Kurt said, his voice coming out a little heavier with wonder than he'd intended. Blaine seemed to be happy with his handiwork and sat down on Kurt's already made bed.

"So, how are you feeling?"

Kurt kept busying himself, his honest eyes avoiding Blaine's intentionally. "I'm fine, thanks."

Blaine ducked his head to catch Kurt's eyes. "How are you really feeling?" he asked, his gaze deep and truthful with a hint of that cosiness that Kurt could definitely never resist. Blaine's chocolate brown eyes were warmer than a rum chocolate soufflé making Kurt simply wish to drown in them.

"I'm... nervous."

Blaine nodded, settling himself further onto Kurt's bed. "Why do you feel nervous?"

Kurt set himself down one of his boxes, a silk scarf threading through his fingers. "I don't know. I guess being the new kind in a place like this is intimidating. I mean, you're all this unit and I'm, well, I've never been part of that before and I'm not sure I'm going to be very good at it."

Blaine nodded in full understanding. "You do know that there's a place for everyone don't you?"

Kurt blinked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we are all equals here, that's what this school's about but that doesn't mean you have to lose who you are."

Kurt smiled a tiny but noticeable smile. "I'm so inherently me that I don't think even the hallowed walls of Dalton could change me. Believe me... I did try once and I swear I can't do it."

Blaine frowned wondering why Kurt would ever consider trying to be someone else but as his mind wandered back into his own past, he got it. He'd tried a couple of times... never worked.

"You don't need to be anyone but you Kurt and there's no need to be nervous."

Kurt slid his gaze to meet Blaine's again. It was impossible not to sigh happily. "Thank you."

As they sat in a second's silence, Kurt's iPod tinkled out the beginning of "Be My Music" from Fame.

"Oh please tell me I'm hearing things," Blaine laughed, his hands coming to hide his face. Kurt blushed and scrambled to find the stop button.

"No, shut your ears. You're not hearing this," Kurt frantically cried, a giggle rising in this throat.

"Oh this just made my day. You do know that's the cheesiest song ever recorded?"

"I'll be your rainy weather friend. Your night light," Kurt sang quietly with a suppressed laugh.

"Welcome, what's it like to be so new? We thirst for your company, a fresh point of view," Blaine crooned, low and melodic.

"Oh my god, you know your Fame! Could we be magic like you is one of my favourites!" Kurt cried with a blossoming smile.

"Guess it's apt."

Kurt was touched. Those words meant a lot.

"And you tried to lead me to believe you were the sophisticated Broadway obsessive and you secretly swoon over Bruno from Fame," Blaine laughed out, "I'm honestly not sure we're going to be able to be friends anymore."

Kurt laughed hard. "Shut up, you can't tell me you never had a crush on Bruno."

Blaine let his head fall to his knees in an overly dramatic attempt to feign embarrassment. "Well, I guess he was charming in an awkward indie way."

Kurt was still laughing, flicking through his music, his heart beating a little faster and happier. "Well, I am not going to lie ... those curls, the little waist coats, the dorkiness. Pretty attractive." He could feel the pink blush on his cheeks but revelled in the moment. He wasn't about to look at Blaine though, he knew his heart wasn't that resilient.

"Well two out of three ain't bad," Blaine mumbled with a tiny smirk. He glanced down at lap and then back up to Kurt who was staring. Neither moved. Kurt was sure his face was on fire but as he looked in Blaine's eyes, his heart beating in his fingertips, he let a smile paint his lips and found, from somewhere unknown, a little courage to flirt.

"You don't need little waistcoats. Wouldn't suit you." He felt his hand shake a little as Blaine fixed his eyes on Kurt's. They were serious eyes for a second before breaking out into a grin so heart stopping that Kurt was sure he'd be hauled up in coronary care by the year's end.

"So, you want to help unpacking the rest of your things?" Blaine offered with a smile dusted with a hint of shyness. Their eyes never left each other.

"Only if you won't make fun of my guilty pleasures," Kurt warned playfully, biting his lip.

"Oh what'd be the fun in that?"

**_Thank you for reading!  
For the two songs mentioned - "Could We Be Magic Like You" from Fame and "Be My Music" from Fame - both Fame the TV show not the film (*shudder*) then there are links in my profile. They're ultra cheesy but CLASSIC musical standards from the good old 80s. My mum got me into Fame when I was younger and I had the BIGGEST crush on Bruno - it was the hair... plus, he was kind of a heart throb back then. Darren's hair is just as beautiful so... i kinda made the connection :D_**


	6. Fireside

_**Thank you all so much for your lovely lovely LOVELY response. It means a lot! I'm so pleased you're enjoying it so far. This is more of an attempt to sort out the mess of "Special Education" but HEY we CLEARLY don't need to worry ... as everyone already seen the clip of BICO for next week.**_

_**Me being a HUGE Christmas girl, especially of old fashioned Christmasses, the fact that BICO is so beautifully vintage and filled with classic romance, over the top flirting and a setting so Christmassy it HURTs...well, I died and went to heaven. Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye would have been proud (aka White Christmas!). I can hardly stand their cuteness.**_

_**Anyway, this is a bit of everything and quite a bit longer (had the laziest day ever!) but the end... oh the end. How I loved writing that. Thank you all again and PLEASE enjoy :D**_

_**PS: some people commented on the height of Kurt/Blaine- I know Kurt's a teeny bit taller but I think that was the point of what I was trying to say. They were just joking about it, but don't worry, I'm sorry if I confused people :D**_

**A week later**

Kurt loved Winter. As a prime excuse to out his most beautiful scarves and awesome collection of hats, he cherished the beauty that was the Christmas months. He coveted the feeling of waking up to a cold room but knowing you have a perfect expanse of a day ahead and a few hours still cocooned in bed to enjoy. The snow was falling and he sat, hot chocolate in hand, nestled in a window seat in the Dalton common room. He wasn't alone, some kids were working on a project on the corner table and a lone figure sat with his nose buried in a good book. As the bell rang, Kurt sighed heavily, positioning his silk red scarf around his neck and making his way to class.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"So, you all have your instructions for next week, please begin working on your individual projects and I expect to see some progress by next class. That's all for today, you may make your way our quietly... oh and Mr Hummell could you stay behind for a second please?"

Kurt was startled, the bubble of nerves in his tummy.

"You been a naughty boy, new kid?" Wes asked. Kurt wondered when he'd stop being so 'new'.

"I have no idea what this is about."

"Kurt?" Mr Peterson asked, signalling for the remaining students to leave the classroom.

"Yes Sir?"

"Kurt, I've noticed of late that your dress has been somewhat inappropriate."

Kurt felt himself shake a little. "I'm sorry sir, I don't understand."

"Kurt we're a boarding school priding ourselves on hundreds of years worth of tradition and I'm afraid to say but silk scarves, brooches and cravats are certainly not part of our dress code."

It was embarrassing. Kurt could feel himself blush, his heart hammering at the sheer injustice.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't realise that things were so strict around here."

"They are certainly not strict if you obey the few rules we have here. Our rules are finite but easy and accessible. We appreciate individual talents and a student's unique spirit, however, to allow one student to... accessorise... well, I'm afraid that's out of the question. The uniforms are there for a reason."

"Yes Mr Peterson," Kurt replied, his ears beetroot and cheeks on fire. This was not fair.

"Thank you Kurt, you may go."

Once outside, Kurt wasn't sure what he wanted to do next – smash the pretentious looking vase on the 'far-too-expensive' sideboard in the hall or scratch the eyes of one of the creepy paintings hanging on the walls. Instead he chose strong coffee, Celine Dion at maximum volume and singing... lots of singing. After he'd kicked his bed, thrown a pillow or two, he slumped in his desk chair and let his head fall to his hands.

It wasn't that he didn't like Dalton, he did, he would even go as far to say that he loved it but something was niggling and fighting at Kurt from the inside out and he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

He let his mind drift back to McKinley and the many show stopping numbers he'd been fortunate to be a part of. It seemed like another world, a volatile technicolour existence filled with vibrant moments of shining brilliance. Dalton was different. It wasn't colourful or sparkling, it was warm and melodic, safe and rhythmic... it was all one unit, nothing out of place or standing out. Kurt wasn't sure which he preferred, he cherished both and their equal negatives seemed to be their distinction. Karovsky and the Neanderthal football players were never far from Kurt's mind when he thought of McKinley, the smell of the trucks he was thrown into religiously from day one and the sting of a cascade of ice in your face.

Dalton wasn't scary and Kurt was sure he'd never once been on edge but it was suffocating. He felt stifled and he was sure that his designer clothes were crying out and sobbing from the other side of his closet door. It wasn't so bad when he was with The Warblers ... Kurt was learning about them and their odd ways but they seemed to have opened their arms and accepted him instantly, therefore, it meant he could shine. They'd even considered, after a few weeks of being wary of Kurt's brazen attitude, his ideas and come to love Kurt for the way he was.

Then there was Blaine- the elephant in the room when Kurt was alone. He was a constant source of care, warmth and humour but there was something under the surface there too. It was as if, since arriving in Dalton, he'd stepped into a different universe... maybe they were all robots ala Stepford Wives, maybe they all just liked living under the constraints of boarding rules or maybe they were just all as scared as Kurt. Whichever it was, Kurt was sure he would never understand it. Most of the time, all of this didn't bother him but Mr Peterson, well, he'd tipped the balance.

"Argh!" Kurt shouted, jamming his finger against the stop button on his iPod dock. Not even Celine could help.

As his finger lingered over the option of Ga-Ga or Streisand, he felt a presence behind him.

"Bad day?"

Blaine stood, his legs crossed and leaning against the wooden door frame. As usual, and quite irritatingly, he was enough to stop your heart, Kurt thought.

"You could say that," Kurt spat, slumping down onto his bed with a huff," Peterson told me I couldn't wear my scarf and basically insinuated I look ridiculous compared to all of the rest of you."

Blaine moved to sit to the right of Kurt, who felt the bed dip but kept staring at his hands. "We're big on uniforms here, it's a Dalton trademark. The teachers can be a bit strict about it I guess."

This wasn't good enough. "Strict? Blaine it's not as if I 'd slashed a hole in my blazer and fastened it with a safety pin, it's not as if I wore a fur stole or a god damned beret but I may as well have."

"Kurt..." Blaine offered, looking up to try to gain eye contact, "I know your old school was different and you could do and wear what you chose to, but here, it's not like that. You're not inhibited from being yourself, it's just an attempt to create a harmony, that's all."

Kurt sighed roughly. "That is me though, I am all about standing out and wearing what I want and how I want. That's how I've always been. I watched Pretty in Pink as a kid and fashioned an outfit out of my grandmother's curtains. That is me."

Blaine smiled, nodding a little. "I get it, I do, but you'll see in time that you don't have to change, that's the last thing Dalton wants but it's a school... the reason we're all made to look the same is so we're respected in a way that makes it easier to be free to be ourselves."

Kurt shook his head. "I just don't feel right."

It was all Blaine could do to stop himself reaching out to touch but it was appropriate. Kurt was angry and frustrated and no amount of comfort was going to solve his problem. Only time.

"Look, I'm making this worse. I'll leave you to your thoughts. If you need any of us, you know where we are." With that, Kurt watched as Blaine left the room carefully and without a sound.

It hurt. It was all too clear that things were getting to him. He hadn't really had time to sit and think about his life and how quickly and drastically it had changed in such a short time. Nothing was familiar anymore, nothing felt like home and the stark differences were now even more prominent. He sighed again, reaching for his algebra homework. Maybe abusing some numbers could tease out the nuisance of his brain.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Where've you been?" Wes asked, swivelling in his chair with a smile, "bothering the new kid?"

Blaine frowned. "He doesn't want to be bothered."

Wes scooted his chair closer and sat, intently looking at his despondent roommate.

"What's going on?"

"I don't think he's happy here, that's all. I don't think I'm doing a good job of this mentor thing."

Wes rolled his eyes, leaning in to bump shoulders with Blaine. "Dude, you're a freakin' saint for this kid. He knows that and it's the reason his eyes are practically supernovas whenever he looks at you so don't start with the lost sheep thing because I don't think I can deal with it."

"I'm anything but a saint," Blaine groaned, "I know what I felt like and he's feeling the same. Remember when I got here?"

Wes scoffed. "Yea and you tried to get us to sing numbers from Bare?"

Blaine had to cringe, he remembered those days. "Bare got me through some tough times."

"I know. We all came here under different circumstances but look at us all, we have fun right?"

Blaine looked up at his roommate, his eyes sad. "Right."

"See... and you're The Warblers front man, which is awesome. Right?"

"Right."

"We've all got to cut back a bit and reign stuff in but that's part of being in school, being a boarder and it's just ... Dalton. Doesn't mean we lose who we are, right?"

Blaine let out a wry laugh and rolled his tired eyes. "Right Wesley, Right. You think you're so clever don't you?"

"I know I am," Wes replied, bumping their shoulders again and smiling. Blaine was sensitive yet he'd learned how to fashion the facade the best out of everyone.

"With Kurt, it's like I'm looking in a mirror. I was so angry and scared. I didn't want to hide myself because that's the very thing I'd had beaten into me. When you're hated and taunted for being you, you find the strength to be you all of the time, to let yourself shine and to throw it in their faces. When you're told to dampen that, to put that away and to be someone else ... it hurts. It's sensible but it's like you're fighting with yourself."

Wes listened intently. He felt bad for Blaine, knowing what he did about the circumstances in which he came to Dalton but he'd boarded at Dalton for long enough to see the good it can do.

"You like this kid don't you?" Wes asked, keeping his eyes on Blaine's. There was the slight blush, starting under the rough curls over Blaine's ear and teasing itself over to his cheekbones.

"He's... I mean, he's nice."

"Nice as in 'I want to share a coffee every now and again' or nice as in 'I want to jump your bones'?"

Blaine sighed and closed his eyes, feeling the weight of them fully. "Nice as in, I don't know."

"I've seen the way you look at him."

"I look at everyone the same, Wesley, ok?"

Wes laughed and jumped away in mock horror. "Dude, if you looked at me like that I'd be sleeping with one eye open."

Blaine punched him hard and had to laugh. "Shut up idiot. I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole and you know it." Their comfort with each other shone through, both laughing with a real sense of friendship.

"I know people feel like we're stuffed shirts and we can't have fun and shake loose but Kurt will get to know us in time. Maybe he's just overwhelmed. Maybe he just needs someone to stick by him like they've been doing all along?"

"Me?" Blaine asked, looking up under his eyelashes.

"Yes moron, you."

Blaine wasn't sure if he should go further, let Wes in on what he was feeling but they were close so his spontaneous streak won out.

"I can't let myself get too close."

Wes grinned with a hint of superiority, knowing he was seeing the real Blaine, teasing out the truth. "Then don't."

Blaine's laugh rushed out roughly as he ran his hands over his face. "Not as easy as you think."

"Why can't you? He's gay, you're gay, you like him, he likes you... clearly. What's stopping you?"

"The fact he can't deal with that right now. The fact that I can't let myself slip. I don't think I can cope with all of that on top of everything else ..."

It was all very honest and Wes couldn't quite believe that Blaine, after so long, was letting this side show again.

"You're a strong dude. You know yourself. When was the last time someone made you feel... something?"

Blaine frowned, feeling a little self conscious. "I don't know, I feel all kinda of things when I watch Neil Patrick Harris on a weekly basis. Does that count?"

Wes spat out his laugh and let his eyes roll back. "Oh yea and don't I know it. I worry for his safety if you ever meet him but I mean, in reality..."

"Ok a long time."

"Exactly," Wes added with a grin, "you're not going to fall apart just because you might have feelings for someone and Kurt's a big boy, I'm sure he'll be fine in time. Just don't do what you always do and hide behind your freakin' issues. We all have them."

"Ok Dr Phil."

"Shut up and go deal with stuff." Wes nodded, clearly pleased with himself, and tapped a small pat of reassurance on this roommate's knee.

"Thanks," Blaine mumbled with a half smile, "I think."

"Ok go see David because if you had forgotten, it's DVD night and he's agonizing. It's his choice this week remember?"

With a smile, natural and easy, Blaine found himself laying his hand on Wes' shoulder briefly before wandering down the corridor to find his stressed-out friend. He was still confused, still worried and still sure that he couldn't bear to get too close to Kurt and let himself open up because... well, he didn't know how to deal with all of that. He had a finely balanced equilibrium and it'd never been tipped.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Hey new kid?" Kurt looked up from his homework and smiled at Wes standing in his doorway.

"Hi."

"So, you busy?" he asked, walking forward and removing the pen from Kurt's hands and closing his maths book. Kurt just watched himself being manhandled.

"Erm, I suppose not," he offered slowly, eyeing up Wes with a sideways glance.

"Good. You're coming with me then, it's our block's DVD night. It's time for you to join in with our traditions."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Kurt could hardly believe his eyes stepping into the senior commons. It was the cosiest set-up he'd ever seen. The boys had lit the log fire and scattered cushions and the odd futon on the floor. The main source of light was the grand fireplace, heat billowing out in steady blasts and the odd candle flickering. Kurt's day had been terrible, frustrating and beyond irritating but this was something else.

He could feel the emotions and pent up feelings wane and dissolve a little in that moment. The other boys were all dressed in ordinary clothing, their individual personalities shining through. One guy wore ripped jeans and a t-shirt with some cool slash print, one wore a preppy bottle green sweater with a checked shirt underneath. It was surprising and made Kurt feel much more at home in his cream cashmere sweater and dark beige tight jeans.

As he stood there, a little stunned, he noticed that Blaine and David had one half of the large plush couch in front of the television. Blaine seemed different, he wasn't smiling or joking as Kurt was used to seeing, he sat with his eyes transfixed on the adjacent window watching the snow fall, his mind clearly elsewhere. Suddenly Kurt felt a twinge of regret, wishing he hadn't been so openly annoyed and taken it out on his true confidant.

"Hey new kid, there's a spot on the couch if you want it," Wes called, throwing Kurt a blue velvet cushion from across the room. Kurt jumped, blinking alert, before tentatively making his way over to his spot. He felt surrounded by good humour, everyone was relaxed. Some were cracking jokes, one guy even wrestled his friend to the ground in a mock fight and there were some drinking tea or handing round sweets and popcorn.

"Hey Kurt!" David called out with a beaming smile. Kurt could barely recognise some of the guys now they were out of their uniforms. Blaine turned his head sharply, his eyes widening when they fell on Kurt.

"Hi," Kurt offered, suddenly feeling acutely aware of himself, "you mind if I sit here?" he asked, signalling to the spot beside Blaine.

"No sit, the movie's about the start," David replied before turning to Wes and complaining that you can't watch Marty McFly in anything other than widescreen with the correct volume pitching.

Kurt tucked his left leg under him as he sat down. He positioned the blue cushion to his side, noticeably shy and oddly unable to breathe out. Blaine was still silent. Kurt couldn't stand it. He was desperate for Blaine to turn and smile, for him to set his eyes on Kurt and for their blinding kindness to soothe him... anything but silence.

"Is this a weekly thing?" Kurt asked quietly, hoping Blaine would hear. He did.

"Pretty much," Blaine mumbled, letting his eyes fall on Kurt's at last. They were tired but warm and all encompassing in a way that made Kurt's tummy swim with all sorts of gorgeous things.

"I'm sorry about before Blaine."

"There's no need to apologise. I understand. I made Wes come get you so you could get a taste of Dalton when it's not... stuffy," Blaine explained with a small secret smile. Kurt felt himself breathe eventually, his heart beating more steadily as he realised Blaine wasn't angry with him after all.

"Thank you for that," Kurt whispered as the opening credits rolled and the sound of Huey Lewis blasted from David's now-perfected speakers.

Kurt shuffled himself further into the cushions whilst being painfully aware of how close Blaine was sitting. He wasn't the usual Blaine, he was softer and a little apologetic in his countenance. There was something open about him that made Kurt's heart ache. He'd seen Blaine as this pillar of strength, this perfect statue of a guy who was unwavering in his confidence and ability. This Blaine, the Blaine sitting beside him in a midnight blue sweater (that Kurt simply wanted to fondle and coo over) and jeans, was so real and frighteningly normal.

"David loves Back to the Future," Blaine explained, his eyes brightening as he realised Kurt had been staring.

"They're classics," Kurt replied, his eyelashes fluttering a little as he spoke.

"There's a reason we ended up with 'Johnny be Good' on our set list last year." Blaine laughed a little, his eyes giving away a little more than he obviously intended. He was nervous.

"I'd have paid good money to see that," Kurt smiled, sinking further into the cushions as David and Wes began a rocking duet to the Power of Love, "although I wouldn't be too ashamed, we did a Journey medley for Regionals last year. Mr Schue's a bit of an 80's guy."

Blaine laughed, the light from the fire reflected in his eyes. Kurt almost gasped. "Are you kidding? Journey are awesome. I mean 'Don't Stop Believing', it's a go to air guitar song."

"Yea," Kurt smiled, storing an image of Blaine air guitaring in his mind for later, "it was kind of our Glee club staple."

"You guys had taste. No way would I be able to persuade these philistines to do anything like that although Teenage Dream was my idea. No amount of pouting and sweet eyes could persuade them to pull off the stuff you guys used to though."

They fell into a comfortable silence after that. Marty Mcfly was rifling through a phonebook trying to find Doc's address as Kurt felt his eyes droop. He was tired to his bones, so aware of how warm the fire made the room and how little time he had before he fell asleep. The warmth from Blaine was intoxicating too, an experience Kurt had never had before. He usually hugged himself to sleep or dreamt of someone putting their arms around him. It'd never happened though, not for real.

He wanted to tangle himself up in Blaine's arms, wrap himself around him and drown in the sheer touch of another person. It was a feeling so powerful that he could barely think straight. Nothing seemed to matter. Blaine had been there since day one, looking out for him, comforting him, thinking of him first, taking his strop on the chin and trying to remedy his bad day. Kurt was so aware of the new Blaine beside him and wondered if he was just as confused and just as laden with issues as everyone else. Maybe he wasn't as perfect and solid as Kurt had thought.

It only made Kurt sigh harder. Blaine was distinctly human in the firelight and Kurt only wanted to tell him how grateful he was, how much he owed Blaine for his efforts. As his brain groaned in desperation, he felt Blaine move beside him. He was noticeably tired too, so much so that he laid his head on the back of the couch and sighed. Kurt couldn't take his eyes off his hair. It wasn't tied down anymore with product, it looked deliciously soft and too tempting. Kurt wasn't used to being so close to guys, especially one he couldn't stop thinking about.

Before he knew what he was doing, he'd twisted in his seat so he mirrored Blaine's position. He let his head lean down, inching closer to Blaine's shoulder with his heart hammering in his throat. At the last second he panicked and pulled back, his eyes screwing shut in embarrassment. He was just so nervous and so damn sure Blaine would freak out knowing that the new kid had a painfully obvious crush. As he mentally slapped himself for being so forthcoming and allowing himself to be open to ridicule ala Finn, he felt Blaine snuggle down into the softness and turn his head.

The look was unmistakeable. It was almost filled with amusement but masked with comfort. Kurt blinked back in the dusky light and didn't know what to do. It wasn't until Blaine tugged his arm from beside him and sneakily extended it as an invitation for Kurt to move closer. With his pulse racing and head swimming, Kurt leaned closer and felt Blaine's arm wrap around his waist. The heat blanketed him immediately, his eyelids fell heavily as he smiled into the wool of Blaine's jumper. He smelled like fire smoke and musk. Kurt barely moved out of shock but as Blaine shuffled and melded himself into the position, he sighed into the hug and nuzzled his head comfortably. He wanted to cry, he wanted to laugh and he wanted to sleep so tight and warm in that moment that as he felt Blaine's chin rest softly on the top of his head, he was sure it was the best first cuddle that anyone had ever experienced.


	7. Closer

_**THANK YOU SO MUCH everyone for your gorgeous comments and messages. You're all far too sweet.**_

_**I'm a sucker for quite a few things... one of which is a decent cuddle and snuggling is just about my favourite thing to write so I'm pleased my teeny taster made you all "awww" ... :D It's shameless fluff, I'm well aware but I mean, they're soooo teenage and old fashioned slow burn romance that I can hardly resist.**_

_**There are many more "little things" to come for our Kurt so I'm so happy you want me to carry on.**_

_**This one's for "Lemonade Mouth" because she's been so lovely leaving the sweetest messages and wanted to know what Blaine was thinking : )**_

_**I hope you enjoy this one... I'm in a Christmassy/cosy mood, can you tell? ; ) It's a little shorter than the others but the next chapter is longer and I PROMISE moves things on a little faster. NOT too fast though ... I don't like the thought of it being rushed. It's too precious.  
**_

Blaine never wanted to move. Ever. Kurt had fallen asleep almost immediately, his head laying gently on Blaine's shoulder and arm curled up against Blaine's chest. Doc was shouting to Marty to "go!" as the lightening was about to strike, David was sitting perched on the end of the couch punching the air, urging Marty to pile in the Flux capacitor. Wes wasn't so engrossed in the movie, instead choosing to glance at Blaine.

"He asleep?" Wes whispered from down on the floor as the other Warblers fell transfixed on the screen.

Blaine smiled and glanced down at Kurt's eyes, noticing there was a small contented smile on his face. "I guess so, he was pretty exhausted. Think it's been a big week."

Wes grinned and raised his eyebrows pointedly. "He looks happy."

Blaine's heart swelled and began to beat harder. "He's just tired Wes, he'd have fallen asleep on you if you were sitting here."

Wes laughed, his eyes rolling of their own accord. "Blaine dude you're either blind or stupid." At this moment, Kurt sniffed and frowned in his sleep, his arm curling closer to Blaine and his head sliding further down from Blaine's shoulder to his chest. It was intoxicating, the feeling of someone so close and so contented just being near that Blaine felt his breathing stutter. "You still think he'd have slept on me like that?" Wes asked with a shake of his head before smiling and turning back to see Marty zoom back into 1985.

Blaine chose this moment to look down at Kurt and think. It had been a long time since he'd let himself feel, well, anything for anyone. The last guy he'd become doe eyed for had, it transpired, only wanted a short time fling and Blaine, being more expectant, had refused to let himself be treated like that. The first guy was different. He was Blaine's first everything and his first heartbreak too. Their relationship wasn't particularly noteworthy, although Blaine had become starry eyed within seconds, letting himself fall hard and fast without a second thought. It wasn't, as he looked back now, sensible and certainly caused him to look at things with rose tinted glasses. Blaine had learned a lot from that relationship – mainly that not every guy who kisses the way Jack used to, is worth it, not every guy who says he likes you, truly means it. Jack had been the world to Blaine, Blaine was a temporary and fleeting spark in the grand scheme of things. Jack was out, proud and significantly intending on proving a point. Blaine now realised he had merely been a tool in that game, a puppy dog glad to be noticed and appreciated. He was wiser now and stronger from his experiences. He was so ready to experience everything that he'd watched his other friends go through. There hadn't been anyone special though, nobody that had caused Blaine to gasp, swoon, sigh, daydream and feel that ache in places you never thought existed. Yet.

Kurt was small and curved exactly to Blaine's side in a way that he could hardly believe. He knew they weren't different in height, not really, but Kurt was definitely softer and gentler, his hair swooped high on his head in a vintage-esque quiff, his skin as pale as snow and as completely flawless, his clothes so quirky and mesmerising... Blaine swallowed hard and tried to focus on the screen as the final scene played out, David intent on watching the Second in the series and starting an argument between the other boys. Blaine laughed as Wes stood in front of the TV, arms spread wide with a look of severe defiance.

"David, my friend, my buddy, my old chum ... put the DVD down and breathe."

David twitched, his hands curling protectively around his box set. "But-"

"But nothing David. But nothing."

"Anyone up for cake, I think Isla left us some," a kid shouted from across the room, referring to their famous and much beloved cook and general mother. A chorus of "yes" and "definitely" erupted as the entire set of guys exited the room. Blaine couldn't move, Kurt still snuggled tight against him. Wes smiled as he passed on his way out of the door.

"Don't worry prince charming, I'll bring you and the new kid a slice." He winked, closing the door behind him.

Blaine sighed, allowing himself to look at Kurt again. It was a hazard in itself. Every second spent in his presence was turning into some slow motion moment of beautiful realisation that niggled at his heart in his quieter moments. It was too fast, too overwhelming and too nice to be true. He'd known Kurt for only around a month and a half and he had vowed to take care of him as a fellow Dalton student and Warbler. None of which, he was sure, involved memorising every curve of his face of imagining what it'd be like to kiss his lips ... they were always so pouty and soft looking, he mentally noted... or thinking about how Kurt would like something or what Kurt would say. It was getting ridiculous and beyond teenage. He had to stop. He had to reign it in because the last thing Kurt needed was someone screwing with his already mangled brain and torturing him even more. Blaine decided, there and then, that he would never add to that.

Kurt squirmed, his hand sliding a little across Blaine's chest. Blaine's eyes were wide and comical as he sighed harshly and let his head fall onto the back of the couch. It was going to be harder, way harder, than he thought.

"Oh my god..." Kurt whispered, his arm pulling immediately back and into his own space, "I am so sorry." He glanced up under his eyelashes and pulled a face.

Blaine smiled, taking in Kurt's sleepy eyes and the slight imprint of the knit of the wool on his face. "It's ok, you were so tired."

Kurt cringed, his hand reaching up to check his hair. "That's no excuse for plastering myself all over you. I'm really sorry. I missed the movie too. Wow I am tragic."

Blaine laughed lightly. When it was just the two of them, it was easy and comfortable but there was always something extra, a charge of tension that cocooned them and made every word and every movement heightened so acutely. Kurt sat up further, smoothing down his clothes and rubbing his eyes. "I don't mind you know, you fell asleep pretty fast."

Kurt glanced sideways. "I should go, don't want you being teased for being my human pillow for the evening."

Blaine wanted to say that wasn't true, that nobody even cared and that, if they did, Blaine would make sure they damn well didn't in the future. The Warblers were cool guys despite their apparent pompousness. He wanted to tell Kurt that he didn't care what he was to him, that he'd gladly be his human pillow if he needed someone but it all sounded too cheesy and far too honest.

"Don't be crazy. I was glad to do it. Can't begrudge you sleep, not when you looked so peaceful."

"Oh god, did I ... did I snore?" Kurt asked, his head in his hands.

Blaine had to laugh, Kurt was rarely embarrassed, he had learned, but this was adorable.

"No you didn't snore, you certainly didn't drool and yes, you look cute when you sleep."

Kurt just stared, all wide eyed and spaced out. "I need to go die now."

Blaine watched as Kurt pulled the blue cushion from out behind him and began to leave.

"Hey, the guys are getting cake and probably our famous hot chocolate if you, erm, I mean if you wanted to stay. Nobody even realised you were asleep, I promise." Blaine could hear the awkwardness in his voice and wondered where the hell his ever-solid confidence had gone.

"Cake?" Kurt asked with a sparkle back in his eyes.

"Chocolate or Coffee, you decide," Blaine added with a smile as Kurt repositioned himself on the couch.

"You're mean. You can sense my weakness," Kurt groaned with a smirk, allowing himself to settle closer to Blaine than he had initially intended.

"Yea well you were just plastered all over me so I feel like we've crossed so many boundaries now," he joked, winking cheekily. It was fun finding his confidence again.

"I hate you," Kurt whined, pushing Blaine hard as the door swung open revealing a mountain of cakes and Warblers carrying an array of odd cups and plates. Blaine didn't even realise, his eyes still on Kurt.

"I'll remember your hatred the next time you're snuggled against me like that, shall I?"

Kurt could feel the pink hit his cheeks as they tingled from the heat. _Next time._


	8. Questions

_**Hey Everyone! **_

_**I am SO sorry for the delay! I had to finish my legal professional finals before christmas which were HELL ON EARTH so I couldn't allow anything else to flood my brain, as much as these two TRIED to ;)**_  
_**I am officially ON HOLIDAY for a month now so I have PLENTY of time to write and have a life - yey! :D Expect plenty of updates (if you guys still want them!)**_

_**Thank you SO much for those people who have STILL been commenting eventhough I haven't updated in a few days. I'm so pleased you like it and I have a lot of ideas for the remaining chapters, some of which are already written.**_

_**I can't POSSIBLY let go of fanon!Wes and David. NO! I am still clinging to the hope that Mr Murphy will make them more loveable but we'll see! Regardless, I choose for Wes to be cheeky and overbearing and David to be a bit frantic, dorky and a little ditsy in his own way...! **_

_**I also had to write Pavarotti into it cos damn, I am admitting it, I am a fan of this damn bird. Mainly because of the utter RIDICULOUSNESS that is FreePavarotti - I mean, it's both genius and insane. I like to see him as the fandom's mascot though and I can't really imagine a better one :D**_

_**Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I'm also starting a Christmas story with Blaine/Kurt leaving Dalton for Christmas their Christmas holiday because, well, Christmas is my favourite time of the year, and BICO was so quaint and beautiful that I now only associate these boys with crackling fireplaces, snowy nights and snuggly scenes. BEST ever, in my opinion :P**_

_**Please let me know if you still want me to carry on and thank you again :) xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**_

Kurt hadn't realised but his 'work' playlist had been on a loop for hours. It was his final exam before Christmas and time was dragging so slow that he was sure he'd jump out of the nearest fourth floor window given half the chance.

Pavarotti chirped close by and Kurt smiled. It was comforting watching the little bird hop mindlessly from one perch to another without a care in the world. It was procrastination at its very highest.

"Oi new kid, you want to study this garbage together?"

Kurt turned to find Wes in his doorway looking a little worse for wear. "When will I stop being the 'new kid'?"

"Never, new kid, now are you coming to study or not because David's already turned to making up songs to memorise his chemistry final and Blaine fell asleep with his face in his Lit book before. We need you, frankly."

Kurt smiled. He'd always worked hard at McKinley and his grades had been good but here the classes were harder and more of a challenge that Kurt was actually enjoying rising to.

"Sure, I can show you guys how it's done," he sang, snapping his book shut and piling up notepads. He'd opted for a more relaxed wardrobe since exams had hit and felt a little self conscious as he hadn't expected company. The plain slim jeans and slightly over-sized black fur jumper would have to do.

As Kurt stepped into Wes' room, he understood why a little of the 'Kurt Hummel' magic was needed. David had strewn all of his notes in a circle around him and was frantically tossing each aside with a face like thunder.

"Nothing answers anything, I mean nothing says what it should say or means what it should mean..."

Kurt rolled his eyes then let them fall on Blaine. He was sitting against the wall on Wes' bed with the same chunky knit sweater he'd worn when they'd drank hot chocolate and similar looser hair. He had his glasses on and Kurt could feel himself staring. He looked edible. It was the only word for it.

"So new kid, any tips?" Wes called out as he strode into the room, reclaiming his computer chair.

Blaine peered up from his book with wide eyes. "Kurt! Erm, hi!"

"Yes, I thought he could let us in on his secret. Hummel you're far too calm and composed. How do you do it?"

Kurt blushed, setting himself down on the rug beside David. "I don't know, probably a mixture of coffee, the dulcet tones of Ms Streisand and a bit of self control."

Blaine laughed, shuffling himself into the mattress and flicking through his book for what felt like the hundredth time. He wasn't sure how it was possible for someone to simply walk in the room and screw up your entire concentration and line of thought but Kurt did it, every single time. He wondered how on Earth he was going to understand Elizabeth Bennett and her sharp wit when all he could think about was how much he wanted to reach out to see if Kurt's sweater was as soft as it looked.

"Whatcha reading?" Kurt asked, as the mattress dipped beside Blaine.

"Pride and Prejudice. English Lit. My brain is fried," Blaine stuttered out.

Kurt smiled, his hands reaching to take the book from Blaine's lap. It was all Blaine could do to remain still and let himself be manhandled. It was little moments of confident Kurt that killed him.

"What are you confused about?" Kurt asked with a small smile. He was so close that Blaine was sure he could feel him like a force field.

Blaine wasn't sure what to say. He got the novel, he liked it, he understood most of it but it was the way Darcy behaved and the way Elizabeth responded that he never quite grasped. The nuances of the characters were a little lost on him. Blaine didn't like not understanding, he didn't like asking for help a lot of the time – the boarding school mentality had taught him to always be ahead of the game – but with Kurt it was different, he was entirely non-judgemental. Yes, he's shoot a look equivalent to daggers at anyone who wronged another or would turn his tiny nose up at something disgusting but friends... well, Blaine could see Kurt's smile and the way he softened immediately when around those he cared for. Being a part of that group was beginning to mean a hell of a lot to Blaine.

"Elizabeth's feisty and independent, as much as someone of her stance could be. Darcy's pretentious and dismissive and completely judgemental. How is that ever going to work?" Blaine asked eventually, his brain working independently despite his inner monologue.

Kurt didn't answer for a few second, simply watching as Blaine's forehead crinkled slightly with confusion, his eyes searching only for Kurt's and lingering there. He'd never shared simple moments like this with someone ... just helping someone and being a study aid. He loved talking about literature, culture, art, fashion, music, theatre... anything that required thought, and here, Blaine was seeking his advice and was actually interested in what he had to say. He'd never discussed this kind of thing with Finn as usually the look he'd receive would be as blank as paper and well, this was just exactly what he craved... someone to spark off.

"Well, Elizabeth's her own person. She's individual. She's never going to settle for less even if that means she has to miss out. She wouldn't take any guy... only one she, erm... loves," Kurt breathed out, realising he wasn't talking to Blaine's eyes but a small curl of hair that refused to stay with the rest. The air seemed thicker, claustrophobic, in a way he felt he could get used to. It was like a bubble had formed around them and held there indefinitely. "Darcy's not dismissive and pretentious, not really. Yes, he's judgemental and stuffy but that's a product of his environment. He's scared and vulnerable just the same way Elizabeth is. She masks her insecurities with her wit. It's all very... I dunno, I guess I could be wrong."

Blaine couldn't look away. He liked this. Wes would often be very serious about The Warblers and the Student Council but other things, well Call of Duty was his main topic of conversation of late. Blaine missed having an intellectual conversation with someone. Kurt was so smart and seemed to have an opinion about anything and everything.

"That's genius," Blaine replied, breaking the fused silence, "when Darcy insults her to Bingley, maybe he was just scared of how much of an impression she'd made in such a short space of time, maybe he wasn't sure how to feel those things he was feeling. Maybe his environment has stifled him so he can't act normally like others would... he's learning all over again because of ... her." It was all sounding a little too close to home and making a little too much sense.

Kurt nodded, passing Blaine the book once again. "Think you're fine Blaine, channel your inner Darcy and you'll ace it." Kurt let his mind wander for a second ... knee high riding boots, tail coat, Blaine in a top hat...

Wes kicked David's arm sneakily as he kept his eyes on the two boys on his bed. David blinked up, about to protest at being assaulted until he realised what Wes was gesturing towards. Kurt was smiling, his lips pouty and eyes wide and alive as Blaine nodded, biting his lip and nudging Kurt's shoulder in a way which screamed 'aw shucks'.

"Sickening," Wes mumbled with a smirk as David shook his head with a smile too.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Blaine was used to being composed. He wasn't one for coming unhinged and letting himself crumple – Blaine Thornton didn't do that kind of thing. Seeing Kurt in this setting was just unfortunately making it a little difficult. He knew that he was a creature of circumstance, someone who adapted to their current situation and ran with it regardless. He'd spent too long in a rut with the same rules and regulations governing his every move. Leaving state school wasn't a step, it was a giant moon leap and he'd had to fit in, work hard, and persevere. He was a performer, something non-conducive to blending in, he was a closet geek, something that didn't allow him to fit in unless he found kindred spirits and well- it had been a struggle.

Kurt was different. Blaine knew it and felt it whenever he was in his presence. It was unsettling, only in the sense that it shook Blaine up inside so much that it was almost becoming addictive. Kurt was so fun to be around, so temptingly adorable and likeable that even when his catty comments or badly timed jokes seemed inappropriate, Blaine felt himself smile, relishing in the awkwardness and spontaneity. Kurt was real, he was fresh and he made Blaine feel things he'd forgotten possible.

"Yes Jenny, yes ok I'll make sure I get your ticket tomorrow. Yes, I know. Yes. Ok. Sleep well, ok, yes I will I promise," David stuttered out as Wes rolled his eyes dramatically, signalling a whisper towards Kurt.

"Under the thumb," he said as Kurt giggled low in his throat, trying to mask it.

Blaine smiled too, his eyes still on his book. "David's girlfriend's what you'd call 'demanding'," Blaine explained as Kurt laughed again, clearly amused by the length of time it was taking David to end his phone conversation.

"My ear, I can't feel my ear," David groaned, falling backwards onto the rug and lying there, his phone discarded by his side, "she just spent twenty minutes telling me I had to make sure I got her ticket to the Snow Ball as she has a dress and she has told all of her friends."

"Aha, and this, my friend, is why I've spoken nothing of this blessed event," Wes sang with a superior grin, "not your finest move David."

Kurt was confused. "What's the Snow Ball?" he asked, his eyes finding Blaine's.

Blaine smiled warmly, shuffling slightly as he placed his book down to his side. "It's our annual Christmas event when Dalton comes together with St Jude's Academy for Girls. It's all very grand and it's pretty exclusive."

Kurt's eyes widened in intrigue. "Wow, when is it?"

"Next Saturday," David mumbled into his hands, "and I need to find one of those flower things for Jenny's wrist or I have a feeling I'll lose a pretty vital organ. She likes tradition you see."

Kurt laughed. Blaine couldn't help but smile. He hadn't had anyone else but David and Wes, for a long time, to banter with and share moments like this with. Yes, they had the other Warblers and Dalton guys who they got on with but they'd always been a three, always stuck together regardless of how different they were. It was nice to find someone to share even a knowing look with.

"Why don't you want to go?" Kurt asked, "it sounds amazing."

Blaine could see Kurt's eyes twinkling. He knew he was mentally creating an outfit. "He's just being melodramatic, ignore him," Blaine explained, "it's a beautiful event. By the way these two are acting you'd think it was torture but it's not. The Heads of Dalton always make sure it's a classy evening."

Kurt smiled as he listened intently, his thoughts lingering on some of Blaine's words and phrases. He always sounded older than is years or simply refined – Kurt approved, he definitely liked refinement.

"So, are you going?" Kurt asked, his eyes dropping back to his lap where they stayed out of worry of seeming too forward.

"Oh our Blaine's a staple at the Snow Ball, Professor Winchester always asks him to perform something festive at the event and of course, he has the St Jude's girls fawning all over them. It's a highlight of my year watching their faces fall as I explain that they're missing a vital body part which means the dashing Blaine unfortunately wouldn't look twice at them," Wes replied, laughing animatedly as he spoke, "and of course, only naturally, every year a few girls still try to turn him. It's painful to watch but I can't say I discourage it. It's too entertaining."

Kurt was laughing so much now he was sure he'd snort any second. "Does that really happen?" he asked, watching as Blaine shot daggers at his best friend.

Blaine sighed, smirking a little. "Ok yes it does, but that means nothing, it's only because I perform. I draw attention to myself."

Kurt watched as Blaine's cheeked washed slightly pink and he shook his head in bewilderment. Kurt was still smiling, a huge grin plastered on his face from the tiny insight into the world of Blaine Thornton. He let his mind wander, thinking about Blaine, on the Dalton Academy Grand Stage in a dinner suit perhaps, crooning out something beautiful and festive, his voice all warm and smooth like chocolate ...

"Kurt?"

He blinked back to Blaine, caught daydreaming. "Oh sorry, was miles away."

"See Blaine, not only the girls you're going to have to worry about," Wes teased, kicking Blaine's foot on the bed.

Blaine shook his head, his eyes wide and accusing, shooting down Wes' next words as a warning. "Shut up Wesley and actually do some of that work before you flunk Bio for the third time this semester." Wes simply scowled with a mischevious smirk.

Kurt was silent. He simply watched Blaine's face flicker with a hundred different emotions then return to composure within seconds, a talent Kurt was sure had been cultivated over time and perfected with practice. It bothered him a little that someone as clearly expressive and in-depth as Blaine felt the need to mask himself, but in a way it was a challenge, one he was damn sure he would undertake once he found the right courage.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Their exams flew by before their eyes, Kurt feeling content and confident he'd managed to perform well for his first set of very different exams. They were no McKinley High. No jock flicked bubblegum in his hair from the row behind and nobody found themselves staying behind after school to work with a brush and soap to scrub off the obscene drawings they'd doodled out of boredom during a particularly tedious Biology paper.

They were rigid, structured and silent. Every student equipped fully and prepared to the point of combustion. Kurt felt the need, after the week was up, to do something insane, something ridiculous. His mind swam with potential ideas, each involving just shaking the hell loose and getting out of starched clothing. He missed cashmere, silk, denim and the multitude of colours that usually fitted together into what Kurt considered a perfect ensemble.

"Hey stranger," Blaine called into Kurt's room, appearing around his door with a smile, "how'd French go?"

"Exceptionally, thank you," Kurt replied with a wink, "and how was Lit?"

Blaine smiled widely. "Pretty good I'd say, although I did have a rather first rate tutor," he replied, over egging his vocab to tease.

"So we're free..."

"As a bird," Blaine muttered, his finger reaching out to stroke Pavarotti mindlessly as he settled himself on Kurt's bed. It was becoming a habit, their easy moments, sitting together just talking, feeling comfortable with walking into the other's room without fear of being unwanted or a burden.

Kurt watched Blaine play. He looked so confident and assured but so inherently child-like in those moments, idly mesmerised by something as his mind wandered elsewhere. Kurt only wished he could crawl inside his head and learn all there is to know.

"He's looking healthy," Blaine said eventually, breaking the silence as Pavarotti pecked gently at his fingers.

Kurt saw it then, a flicker of nerves behind the other boy's eyes. "He's getting noisier," Kurt laughed out, "I think sometimes he tries to compete with me when I sing so maybe we challenge each other."

Blaine's smile shone bright making Kurt's tummy clench in the most addictive way. It was way more intense now, like a tight feeling of comfort mixed with tension, enough to drive Kurt insane in the middle of the night.

"He was always so quiet with me," Blaine muttered then fell silent with a tiny final smile. Kurt felt himself drawn to Blaine's side. It was obvious he wanted to say something and that his visit wasn't purely out of habit. Blaine felt Kurt sit to his right. He turned, smiling as he did so, to sit cross legged on Kurt's bed making them align opposite each other. "I erm, can I ask you something?" Kurt nodded feeling his skin tingle. "Last week when we were in Wes' room studying and I told you about the Snow Ball... I meant to ask you then but I guessed that Wes and David would make my life a living hell so I decided to do it a little more privately..." Kurt could feel his hand growing clammy, his stomach twisting up and a tiny bubble of panic floating somewhere in his throat. "Do you think it'd be something you'd like to go to?" Blaine asked, his eyes resolutely on Kurt's – unwavering.

It was all Kurt could do to not crumple out of sheer intensity. Blaine had no idea the strength of his gaze. He had to speak and say something as the silence, although not uncomfortable, was loud and uncalled for. Kurt wanted to go, desperately, especially as he'd already decided upon a full outfit and beauty regime to prepare himself for it. What he didn't expect was to attend with anyone imparticular.

"Well, I wondered, seeing as it's your first year here and your first Ball, if you'd want to go and I wanted to know if you wanted to go with me?"

That was all it took. Kurt could barely move. He'd never been asked out to the mall by a guy before nevermind to a ball, and a Grand Ball at that. He felt the pink blush rise in his cheeks, his palms now very warm and chest so full of his own held breath that it was overwhelming.

"I'd love to," he said, all too quickly, the words all running into one.

Blaine's face flickered from worry to adulation within seconds. "Really? You sure, I mean I didn't know if anyone else had asked you or if I was overstepping because-"

Kurt smiled, his inability to exercise adequate self control finally taking over as he reached for Blaine's arm. Touching it lightly, he smiled. "Nobody has asked me, and even if they had, I'd still be only saying yes to you."

He hadn't meant for the words to come out quite like that but it was natural and totally from the heart. Blaine's face softened as he glanced up under his eyelashes. "I wish I'd asked you earlier," he whispered.

"Why?"

"Because now you've only got two days to prepare for it," Blaine explained, his eyes regretful but still shining brightly- playfully.

Kurt laughed, shaking his head. "You underestimate my power of creativity Blaine Thornton."

As the other boy smiled, his eyes sparkling again, Kurt wasn't all too sure he knew what the invitation meant but he felt lucky, relishing in the moment... the first time he'd been asked to an event by a boy, someone who actually liked his company and who, despite his mental urges to stop obsessing over them, had the most beautiful hazel eyes he'd ever seen.


	9. Dress Up

_**As this whole story focuses on the things Kurt has always wished for and never experienced...I wanted to take it a little slower so instead of rushing straight to the Ball, I added this chapter.**_

_**It's a bit self indulgent, simply because I wanted more of Blaine's feelings. There's less insight in the next Chapter as it tends to break up the pace, but I wanted to write it :D**_

_**I hope you still like it. The next chapter focuses on the Ball itself ... I LOVED writing it SO much. I'll post it tomorrow.**_

_**Thank you again for your LOVELY comments and messages. They're appreciated SO much. :)**_

**_PS: If you couldn't tell from the first part of the Chapter, I bloomin' love Burt. He's awesome._**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee in any way shape or form, I just like to daydream and then write about it._**

"Carole sends her love."

Kurt smiled, just listening to his dad's voice on the other end of the phone was comforting.

"Aw give her a hug from me will you?" he asked, smiling into his words, "and how's Finn?"

Burt sighed on the other end of the line. "Well, he's a little quieter. Think he's got women trouble but you know Finn, he's thrown himself into Glee and Football, think they're even doing something special for Christmas. He's keeping himself busy. Anyway, how are you kiddo, anything special?"

Kurt lay back on his bed. "Well, my grades are good. I managed to ace my exams except Chem but I guess I've never been one for the boring subjects. I came top of my class in French and Lit so you can be suitably proud." He grinned as Burt clapped loudly into the mic.

"Nice one son. How's the singing group? You got anything planned for Christmas?"

"Well, The Warblers always perform at the Snow Ball, it's their annual party so we have that."

"Oh you have a Ball? Is it something you take a date to?" Burt asked, his voice tentative as always in an attempt to try to say the right thing. Kurt wished his dad was here so he could hug him.

"I don't think it's mandatory that you bring a date but yes, some people have dates."

"And you don't?"

Kurt frowned, cringing slightly. "Daaaaaad," he groaned out.

"Well kiddo, am only asking, there's no reason why you shouldn't have a date. You're a good guy." Kurt felt tears prickle at his eyelashes.

"Thanks dad... really. I guess I don't have a date as such but Blaine asked me if I wanted to go with him."

"Blaine?"

"Yea Dad you remember, you met him when we moved all of my stuff here?"

Burt was silent for a second. "Oh the posh one?"

Kurt laughed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Dad he's not posh, he's just been brought up the right way."

"He a good guy?"

"Yes Dad, he's a good guy, he's honourable and you don't have to worry about me, it's not a date, we're just going as friends."

"Is he, erm, is he into guys too?" Burt asked, Kurt hearing the awkwardness in his father's voice and sighing out of affection. He loved his dad for trying.

"Yes, he's 'into guys' but that doesn't mean he's into me."

"Well why not," Burt spat, "why wouldn't he be?"

"Daaaad, look, I'm not presuming anything. I'm just touched to have been asked to go, it's quite the event."

"Well I'm sure you'll have it all planned out as always. I just want you to enjoy yourself and I like the sound of this kid, Blaine is it? He sounds like a nice kid. You just have fun and be careful."

Kurt all but hugged his phone. "I will dad and remember to give Carole that hug."

"I won't forget."

"And dad?"

"Hmm hmm?"

"I love you."

Burt sighed, his chest filling with pride. "I love you too Kurt, I'll speak to you tomorrow. I want to know everything."

With that, they hung up, Kurt wiping his eyes and choking back tears. Happy tears.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Pavi, I need your advice. Do you prefer the grey or the black?" Kurt asked, holding up both jacket options with a flick of his hip. The bird simply chirped back and hopped onto another perch. Kurt smiled lovingly. "Well, you're no use. It's at times like this that I need to clone myself. I give such good advice."

"You know, talking to yourself is the first sign of madness?"

Kurt jumped, his heart hammering in his chest, as he took in the silhouette of Blaine by his door.

"Actually, I was talking to Pavarotti, he's quite the conversationalist," Kurt stated matter-of-factly, his eyebrows raised in self importance.

"Oh yes," Blaine murmured, smirking and casting his eyes over to the tiny bird pecking obliviously at his millet, "he seems enthralling." Kurt simply rolled his eyes, letting them focus again on his wardrobe choices. The grey was slimmer fitting and shinier which screamed 'festive' but he knew the black brought out the colour of his eyes and the shade of his hair. The decision was a tough one.

"So, are you all rehearsed?" Kurt asked eventually, noticing that Blaine had settled himself in his usual position on Kurt's bed with his back leaning against the wall. It sent a little pleasurable shiver through him, knowing that they had 'things' ... traditions almost.

Blaine looked up, nibbling his lip a little. "Almost," he said, his voice sounding somewhat uncertain.

"Where's Blaine Thornton and what have you done to him?"

"I'm very much here."

Kurt frowned. "No you're not. You're different." Kurt could see it, the crinkle in Blaine's forehead. He'd entered the room so confident and so... Blaine and now he'd had time to breathe, time to just be. Kurt had only seen it happen a couple of times – the real Blaine. It always happened in their quieter moments when they were in isolation.

"I may," Blaine began, pointedly emphasising the 'may', "be a little bit nervous."

Kurt smiled sweetly, chuckling to himself as he tore his mind away from his outfit. He spoke as he sat on the edge of his bed. "Why are you nervous? You perform all of the time."

"I honestly don't know." He did know. He knew exactly why he was nervous and it had absolutely nothing to do with holding a mic and singing. He'd asked Kurt to the Snow Ball, the biggest and grandest Dalton tradition they had and all had been confirmed in a second. Blaine wasn't stupid. He knew Kurt had never been invited to a dance before, knew that every moment was a first for him and suddenly, around midnight of the previous week, Blaine had started to over-think. He wanted it to be perfect, for Kurt to remember the night for only good reasons and for him to truly enjoy himself.

"Well," Kurt began, ducking his eyes to meet Blaine's, "I have no idea why someone of your talent would let nerves rule their performance. All of the greats fuelled their stage presence with a touch of nerves but you're a natural, you'll be amazing as... always."

Blaine couldn't hold back the smile. He was a killer, Kurt Hummel. Always good with words, the quicker the better and never off the mark. It was then that Blaine channelled himself back in, reminding himself that he had asked Kurt for a reason – he was the person Blaine wanted to go to the ball with. Plain and Simple.

Although it wasn't. The warm sunny feeling in his stomach and the heady dizziness told him otherwise. He asked him because he wanted to make him happy, to show him he was worthwhile and because he wanted to spend as much time in his company as physically possible before Christmas break.

"Thank you," Blaine finally answered, smiling widely to show Kurt he was fine, which he was.

"Pavi might be a great conversationalist but he's not as skilled in the style guru department so, erm do you mind? I can't decide and since I won't want to show up the star of The Warblers, I have a feeling you may have a vested interest." Kurt grinned, jumping off the edge of the bed and displaying both suit jackets.

Blaine smiled, shuffling to face him. "Kurt, I might not be the best person to ask about this, I have two suits. One for the day, one for an evening."

Kurt groaned playfully. "Well just tell me which you prefer and it'll be a step in the right direction."

Blaine studied each for a second. "I can't really say," he added, knowing how cutely impatient Kurt was becoming. It was clear that fashion confusion was not something Kurt took lightly. "Look, put each on and show me." Blaine couldn't tear his eyes away as Kurt obliged, sliding the slim grey jacket over his elegant frame. Blaine could only think of specific words to describe Kurt, ones that he'd never used for potential boyfriends in the past (not that there'd been a lot), and these words were all summed up in one encapsulated adjective – "beautiful". He was, and not in the cheesy sense of the word, in the practical and sensible assessment of Kurt's indescribable beauty. It was real and tangible and something Blaine found mesmerising. His skin. It kept Blaine awake at night at the thought of how soft it must be and how preened and delicate it seemed. His hair, so precise and seemingly soft too, swept up in the most stylish way, a way which Blaine envied. His own hair would sprout legs if it could, it was that unruly at times. Blaine watched as Kurt turned, his arms out to the sides, modelling the first jacket. He had to mentally warn himself to trim back the swoon in his gaze and limit the use of his vocabulary to an appropriate level.

"What do you think?" Kurt asked, his eyes now slightly anxious, "think of it with slim dress pants."

Blaine did not want to think of those slim pants. Especially not as Kurt was the only guy he'd ever met who was capable of pulling off that look to such a standard that Blaine's heart rate doubled instantly every time.

"I like it," Blaine finally spoke, "I like the colour, it suits you."

Kurt sighed dramatically. He'd have been better sticking with Pavi as his resident stylist. Still, there was something so domestic in the moment that he couldn't help but relish in it. The fact Blaine was a pretty terrible dresser only made him more endearing and, something even more irritating, Blaine could pull off whatever outfit he chose, no matter how ridiculous or dorky or utterly clashing. He made it look refined and handsome.

"I need you to be more specific," Kurt urged with a smirk, "does it fit right? Lie correctly? Clash with the colour of the pants?"

Blaine laughed. "I am terrible at this," he said, rising off the bed to stand infront of Kurt, his hand reaching out to tug at the lapels and straighten them down. It was all very de ja vu and Kurt felt it. His skin scorched under his shirt as Blaine preened him in a way which felt fused with meaning – surely Blaine's hands did not need to linger as long as they were.

Kurt sighed, his eyes meeting the other boy's for a second. "You're right, you're terrible," Kurt teased, batting Blaine's hands away lightly. He didn't want to, not really, but he couldn't stand the overwhelming feelings that came with Blaine so close. Not when he was sure he was alone in his heart swooping crush.

"Thanks for the honesty. I do mean it though, this one is good. It's very... you."

Kurt smiled again, his eyes shining that little bit brighter. Blaine noticed it, or more specifically, Blaine's heart noticed it as its pace quickened instantly.

Kurt sighed, diverting his attention. "So," he started, putting his clothes back into his closet as Blaine perched himself next to Pavarotti on the bed once again, "what time does it all begin?"

"Well, how about I come and find you around six thirty and we can make our way down with Wes and David?"

Kurt turned and let a smile tug at his lips. "Sounds good," he replied, hesitating with continuing until he found the words, "and I just wanted to say that I'm really grateful, I mean, I wanted to thank you for asking me to go with you. It was nice to be asked, it's kind of never happened before. Thank you for doing it so I didn't miss out."

Blaine couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was all wrong.

"I didn't ask you because I didn't want you to miss out or because you'd have to go alone," he explained, moving across the room again towards Kurt and stopping just infront of him, "I asked you because I wanted your company and I wanted you to go with me... and," he stopped for a second, his fingers reaching out to hesitantly smooth down Kurt's collar, "there's absolutely no need to thank me. The pleasure's mine."

With those words and a stare so intense Kurt could feel it warm his skin, Blaine smiled, turned and left the room. Kurt couldn't breathe. He reached up to touch the material of his jacket without thinking, simply to brush his fingers over the spot where Blaine had touched. He closed his eyes, regulating his intake of air, and felt his skin thaw. He wasn't sure he would ever get used to Blaine's fondness for touching people, shoulder bumping, patting, cuddling, leaning, stroking and generally being tactile. It wasn't what Kurt was used to. It was addictive and thrilling as well as being so personal, making him feel cared for and noticed. Kurt realised he hadn't moved, his hand still lingering in the space that Blaine had inhabited, so he peeled off his jacket, hanging it delicately, and collapsed onto his bed with one single aim – to document and memorise every feeling, every emotion and every single second of the exchange before he spent the entire night with Blaine and his mind, as he entirely expected, turned to mush.


	10. Sparkling Champagne and Faithful Friends

_**Thank you all you sweet, lovely, friendly, fabulous people! :D**_

_**I'm so happy you like it AND are still with me! I hate stories that don't make you wait a little and I prefer a bit of a slow burn which is why I always write it. I like to earn a nice moment or earn a pay off- it's so easy to cut to a kiss or a confession of love or a revelation of any kind right away but I always think it cheapens it if it's too soon... maybe that's just me.**_

_**If you hadn't already realised, I love the thought of little Pavarotti being Kurt's tiny confidant (mainly because of the sneaky Warblers on Twitter bringing him to life and being so flippin' cute!) and I also love everything old fashioned which is why a lot of my references are old music, old movies etc. I DEFINITELY urge you to look them up if you're curious :D I always see Kurt that way – kind of an old soul. **_

_**Thank you again for your EXTREMELY kind words and I REALLY hope you enjoy this little episode centred all around the "Snow Ball", which, as I was writing, I genuinely WANTED TO ATTEND – haha!  
**_

_**Let me know what you think! xxxx**_

Kurt wasn't quite sure if the fact his hand was shaking and stomach was tight was the product of his nerves or intense excitement. He'd seen van upon van arrive at Dalton since early morning when he'd proceeded to rise, relishing the Saturday laziness, and spend inordinate amounts of time preening and beautifying.

"Pavi, who knew when I arrived here that I'd be going to this event? At McKinley the biggest honour I was shown was the jocks allowing me to remove my more expensive clothing before throwing me in a dumpster in the parking lot. Yes Pavi, that's right, things weren't so good back then," Kurt explained, the bird tweeting back randomly. "Thanks sweetheart, you're a pretty good listener."

It took four hours precisely. Kurt had timed it to perfection and even prepared a playlist for the occasion. He showered, shaved, toned, moisturised, preened and then began styling his hair. He was half the way through a rendition of "This Heart of Mine", channelling his inner Judy, when he noticed the snow begin to fall outside. His heart swooped as a huge smile spread across his face. He felt like he was in a movie at the point where a character was getting all they ever wanted and the music would kick in, loud and affecting. He was sure he was dreaming until he remembered all of the horror he'd endured and the pain he'd accepted as 'par for the course' in the past – it was about time there was a little magic.

At 6:15 he was buttoning his jacket slowly, now onto "It Only Takes a Moment" in true Mr Crawford style. He danced over to Pavi, tipping a little covering of seed into his tray and smiling when the tiny yellow bird nuzzled his finger. "Aww tweetiepie you're so cute, thank you. You have a nice evening too, I'll leave the standards playing for you as a treat. Not fair you should miss out on the fun."

The little bird chirped back, nibbling happily at the newly replenished food. Kurt turned and glanced himself up and down in the mirror. He was reasonably happy with the ensemble. Dark slim dress pants with a slim cut charcoal grey shimmer jacket, the lapels a subtle black velvet, and finished off with a pair of shiny black shoes that glittered like mirror balls from a good twenty minutes polishing. He nodded, satisfied he wasn't going to stick out like a sore thumb but feeling confident and very 'Kurt'.

"Wow."

Kurt turned to his doorway. He saw Wes first, leaning playfully on the door frame, corsage in hand and decked out in a dark blue suit. His eyes then slid to Blaine. Blaine...

The lack of Dalton uniform was obvious, gorgeously obvious. His hair wasn't as gelled down as normal, instead it was tidy but looser making him look so quirky- so Blaine. His suit was jet black, fitting and perfectly trimmed in a lighter grey making it so retro and a little jaunty. His shoes were a soft sole vintage brogue in pale grey and black. On anyone else it would have looked too much, possibly ridiculous, definitely eye catching, but on Blaine it was shockingly stylish. Another reason Kurt decided to hate the boy, if truth be told.

"Hi."

"Again," Blaine murmured, "wow."

Kurt couldn't even begin to fight the blush. It was pointless and too fast to paint his cheeks. "Why thank you Sir," he sang, channelling his inner confidence, "you all look very handsome." He only looked at Blaine as he spoke, his eyes incapable of drifting elsewhere, locked in the other boy's gaze. Blaine grinned, all lopsided, eventually letting his eyes flutter down to his shoes.

"So, this is all lovely and everything but we have a Ball to go to and I want food. My stomach thinks my throat's been slashed," David blurted out, slapping Blaine on the back.

Blaine blinked alert again, his eyes flickering to his friend. "Oh yea, ok, Kurt, you ready to go?"

Kurt smiled, nodded and practically skipped. He reached the door, his hand lingering on the light switch as the other boys began walking to corridor. "Night Pavi, wish me look," he whispered into the dark, the crooning sound of Sinatra quietly playing for his feathered friend.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

Kurt was sure, once again, that he was dreaming. An expert in designing, conceptualising and arranging an event, he was impressed to the point of speechlessness.

Tiny snowflakes had been hung from the beams in the Grand Hall, the tables were draped with crisp white cloths, the lights dimmed and tiny candles dotting every table in the most romantic fashion. The stage was set with a simple deep red backdrop and Grand piano, poinsettias were spotted tastefully at random intervals and the entrance was sweeping with curved tables lined with champagne and bowls of sugar dusted strawberries. Kurt could feel his fingers itching to touch everything and taste too. It was extravagant but tasteful – all in one.

Blaine kept his eyes on Kurt, watching as they danced to the stage, to the windows, to the tables, to the champagne and then locked back on his own with a smile. "You approve," Blaine asked, returning the warm smile and threading his arm carefully through Kurt's as they stepped forward into the reception area.

Kurt felt his skin shiver at the touch. Again, Blaine with the touching. He felt proud, a feeling he wasn't expecting, to be with Blaine, to be a guest and to even be capable of walking arm in arm with another guy into what could appear, on face value, to be quite a high brow event. He leaned in slightly to the touch, relishing in the poignancy of the moment for him.

Blaine felt it, the slight shock, the glance down at their arms and then the slight but very pleasant weight against his arm. Kurt seemed relaxed. Mission accomplished.

"I'm afraid I'll have to leave once we're seated... got to go get fitted with my mic and do my bit then I'll be back. You ok?" Blaine asked, leading Kurt along the tables and passing him a tall glass of sparkling champagne.

Kurt sipped it, nodding daintily and rubbing his lips together, savouring the taste. "Oh I'll be fine, you go and do your thing."

Blaine smiled and reached out, simply brushing his fingers over Kurt's arm in a manner which seemed to speak of protection. He left then, being greeted by everyone as he walked towards the stage and leaving Kurt to his new found taste for champagne and an ache to find his seat instead of loitering and appearing lost.

"Hi, you're Kurt, right?" a voice came from behind him. Kurt turned to see a guy, hair blonde and stylishly spiked, in an expensive looking dinner suit.

"Um yes, I'm Kurt, it's nice to meet you," he replied, somewhat shocked again even after all of this time that people were so friendly at Dalton. Stuffy sometimes but he couldn't deny they were friendly.

"Good to meet you too, I'm Thomas, ex-Warbler and son of the Principle but please don't hold it against me." He smiled widely, extending his hand to Kurt who took it gently and grinned back.

"Wow, well I am a new Warbler, son of a mechanic and feeling a little out of place but happy non-the-less."

Thomas laughed, his eyes bright. "Blaine told me about you," he said simply making Kurt's stomach tense.

"He did?"

"I left last year and Blaine took my lead at Sectionals. He's a good guy, I've got a lot of respect for him. He told me that someone else had transferred here mid-semester just as he had."

Kurt was a little shocked and concerned that Thomas knew more about him than he was letting on but he considered it sweet that Thomas was so welcoming. "Well, that's me. I transferred from McKinley High. It was a bit tough but everyone's been so welcoming."

"I saw how hard it was for Blaine," Thomas said, his voice quieter now and more respectful, "I saw how he struggled and I know how much he cares about this place even if it isn't all that easy to adjust to."

Kurt sighed, smiling. "Thank god you just said that," he laughed out, "I keep thinking that everyone just came here and were bred to be 'Dalton Boys' as it's taken me quite a while to get used to everything. I'd say I'm settling in ok now though... I think."

Thomas nodded, extending his hand to offer Kurt a passage to walk to the tables. It seemed that Blaine was placed at the top table, presumably due to his providing entertainment, and Thomas was sitting alongside his father. "I'm guessing Blaine's had a lot to do with the feeling better about Dalton?" Thomas asked.

Kurt scanned the other guy's eyes in an attempt to find the true reasoning behind his question, worrying he was implying that something more was occurring beyond friendship. Thomas gave nothing away. "He has a lot to do with it, a lot of people here have been very welcoming."

Thomas seemed apologetic. "I didn't mean to sound precocious, what I meant was that Blaine is a protective guy, he's always been quick to care for those close to him and it's wonderful that you have someone who has experienced a change so similar to yourself."

Kurt sighed. "Yes, you're right. He has been wonderful. He has barely left my side since I transferred and in a way I'm grateful. I didn't have someone I could really lean on at my old school. I had good friends but nobody who really understood my situation." Kurt blanched, shocked at his honesty in such a situation. Thomas kindly smiled back.

"It sounds as if you're going to be just fine here Kurt. I hope so. I learned a lot here at Dalton and I'm a better guy for it. Being in college now, I know this place taught me a lot about respecting yourself and feeling proud to be who you truly are. High school sucks when you're a guy who doesn't fancy girls. That is until you realise it's perfectly ok."

Kurt felt his eyes widen. He hadn't expected that. Thomas was not someone he'd have guessed to be gay and it was incredible.

"Oh, I didn't know. That all sounds so positive."

Thomas nudged Kurt's arm with his own as the lights in the hall dimmed gradually. "It is Kurt, it all is, just takes time I guess."

Kurt felt his skin tingle and heart pulse. The comfort of that moment spread through him in a precious band of warmth. It was at this moment that Blaine stepped out onto the stage to rapturous applause.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the compere announced, "starting the festivities tonight, in true Dalton Snow Ball style is our very own Blaine Thornton. Please put your hands together."

The room clapped and Kurt was even sure he heard woops and wolf whistles. His eyes found The Warblers table and, sure enough, David was drumming his fork and knife against the table cloth in a drum roll as Wes stuck his fingers in his mouth to woot a little noise of support.

Blaine, silhouetted by the stage lights against the burgundy backdrop, perched gently on a silver stool, the mic in one hand. He nodded his head to the crowd in appreciation and Kurt was sure he even caught Blaine glance over to their table. He looked all lit up inside on stage as the pianist began, followed by the small quartet situated in the corner of the room.

Kurt felt his heart quicken. He knew his festive songs and especially knew his classics. He had almost every cover of "Have yourself a merry little Christmas" on his iPod including Sinatra, Ms Garland and of course the inimitable Ella Fitzgerland. To hear Blaine begin to sing the same song in his trademark tone, causing any song whether it be modern or classic, to sound a little retro and oozing soul. Kurt was sure there were stars in his eyes. He rested his head on his hand as he leaned forward on the table, a little drawn in. It was mesmerising. He'd seen Blaine perform before but there was something utterly sexy about him crooning out hot buttery notes about light hearts and happy golden days. Everytime Blaine sang "next year all our trouble will be out of sight", Kurt felt himself choke up, his eyes glistening slightly. It was pathetic, he told himself, but it was impossible to stop. Kurt found himself, and quite clichéd, mouthing 'faithful friends' and smiling dreamily to himself. It was a moment so cherished, so instantly, that his brain took a million tiny photographs and stored them in his heart to peruse whenever he felt down.

As Blaine bowed to applause so loud it hurt, Kurt felt Thomas lean in beside him. "You're a lucky son of a bitch coming as Blaine's date tonight," he whispered, an easy and playful look in his eyes, "you'll be the envy of the whole room."

Kurt went to object, to explain he wasn't Blaine's date and was simply a friend being asked to an event, when he felt a hand on his lower back. He all but jumped around.

"So, was it painfully cheesy or did I manage to pull it off?"

Kurt wasn't too sure what to do, how to behave, what to say and how to say it. If he wasn't giddy and smitten before, standing infront of Blaine in that moment, he was a goner.

"You were... you, um... it was magical," Kurt stuttered out, entirely uncharacteristically, with a smile that was way coyer than he intended.

Blaine's eyes lit up. "Oh wow, thank you. I'm pleased you liked it."

Kurt lowered himself back in his seat, clinging desperately to the side of his chair for support. He was going to swoon if Blaine so much as brushed his arm, he just knew it.

"Tom! Oh my god you did not tell me you were coming! How are you?" Blaine shouted, throwing his arms around Thomas' neck and slapping his back with such force that Kurt feared for Thomas' composure. He seemed quite used to it and grinned widely.

"Thornton, you never lose your touch do you? Still turning on the whole room I see?"

Kurt even blushed and he wasn't party to the conversation. He peered up to see Blaine's reaction.

"Shut up," Blaine laughed out, shaking his head with a smirk, "we all know that was always your special talent. I'm short with silly hair-"

"And the same ridiculous shoes as always I see. This year, another classic pair. Where do you find them mate, seriously?"

Blaine was beaming. "Hey, these are my favourite pair. I thought they were cool."

"Somehow and as always you manage it Thornton, and that is something I shall never understand. Bottle it and sell it my friend."

"You always say that!"

Blaine glanced down at Kurt for a second, his face breaking further into a smile. "Tom have you met Kurt?"

"I have had the pleasure, yes."

Kurt nodded and offered a small happy nod in return.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if you could please be seated, dinner will now be served!" The announcement was welcomed by loud mumbling and shuffling. Blaine took his seat by Kurt, breaking the reunion with Thomas.

"You're going to love the food," Blaine said, full of assurance, and with a wink.

"I love everything," Kurt said quietly, his heart blooming and chest full of happiness.

Blaine felt it in that moment. The happiness from seeing another so happy too. Kurt's eyes flickered back to Blaine's and watched his face slide ever so slightly into seriousness. An intense and warm kind of seriousness.

"I'm so pleased you love it."

Kurt ducked his head, feeling the tension and bubble of velvet warmth glide over him. "Thank you so much."

Blaine raised his eyebrows and shook his head with a small and meaningful smile. _No thank you._

**_TO BE CONTINUED..._**


	11. Clarity and Closeness

_**THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH for your simply LOVELY messages. I'm so pleased you enjoyed the last chapter.**_

_**I know a couple of you asked about the Champagne thing and because they're still in high school. Here, in the UK, it's still a tradition and considered ok for people to drink one glass of champagne at big classy events! Sorry if I confused anyone!**_

_**ALSO, I literally died HAPPILY yesterday when ASCAP uploaded their video of Darren singing "Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas". It's my very favourite Christmas song and I just simply wanted him to sing it in this story ... and then DARREN DID THAT. Complete conoincidence! I usually AVOID the whole AVPM/S, Darren and Harry Potter references so this was definitely a coincidence- I pretty nice one ;)**_

_**I REALLY hope you like this episode and there is still a THIRD Snow Ball episode to come. It'll probably be up later actually. The night needs to end yet. This is VERY fluffy, that's a warning to you. I write NOTHING ELSE. I do a bit of angsty stuff every now and then but THIS is just happy sap : )**_

_**PLEASE ENJOY!  
PS: To those who asked about Thomas, more will be explained about him later on but he's probably not going to be what you expect him to be...**_

Their, post Principal speech, performance had gone down pretty well. The Warbler's rendition of "White Christmas" complete with "shoops" and plenty of dreamy harmonies. The Principal had congratulated them on their year of 'exceptional talent' and had even personally welcomed Kurt as a new member.

"So, what happens next?" Kurt asked as he sauntered back towards the tables with David and Blaine.

"Well, there's always dancing," Blaine explained.

"Oh well I can't wait to see the signature Blaine moves," Kurt teased, beaming. Blaine frowned playfully.

"I may not be the world's best dancer but, Mr Hummel, you can't accuse me of not trying." Kurt giggled, pursing his lips.

"He's shocking, right?" David added, "I mean, it's all arms and legs and weird faces. We've tried to tell him, believe me." Kurt watched as Blaine pouted.

"Well, there's way too much seriousness in The Warblers. You'd miss my input."

David just scowled with a smirk and raised his eyebrows. "Whatever Blaine, whatever."

As Kurt sat back in his seat sipping a small glass of mulled wine. He watched as Blaine was swept away by a dozen people, all congratulating him on his performance and asking him about Warblers progress and how his family were. It seemed that Blaine was something of a Dalton celebrity, something Kurt didn't fully understand. There was something he was missing. He watched Blaine's face settle into a solid and obviously practiced expression, his eyes unfaltering. He was polite and ever the gentleman but there was a change in him, something that froze solid in him as if he was on official business – he was a different Blaine.

Once the glass of mulled wine was empty, Kurt let his eyes scan the room. Thomas seemed to be dancing with his mom, The Warblers were all either flailing their arms around on the dance floor with girls from the other school or kicking back at their table and flirting shamelessly. Blaine was no-where to be seen. He felt a little lonely. Everyone was friendly and welcoming but Kurt didn't feel he was able to just walk up and interrupt conversations or intervene. He was still very much the new kid. There was one thing that kept circling his brain – how intensely he missed the New Directions. They'd have danced like morons, sang sickeningly upbeat Christmas numbers and giggled the night away and forgotten how each secretly, in some way or another, they all had issues with each other.

"I'm so sorry I had to go and... circulate." Kurt watched as Blaine lowered himself into his seat.

"It's ok, I guessed you had your duties. You're in demand."

Blaine frowned. "Yes, unfortunately there are added responsibilities of being an the Warbler's front man and Head of Student Council. I'm sorry I was so long." Kurt could see a more natural Blaine before him, his eyes now softer and genuinely apologetic. Kurt could hardly be angry or disappointed.

"It's perfectly fine honestly. I'm having a wonderful time. It's all so beautiful."

Blaine laughed under his breath with affection. "You're too nice. I all but left you alone and all you can think to say is 'it's beautiful'?

"Blaine, there are crystals on the napkins. Either you're blind or you don't know me at all,"

The other boy laughed. "Picking up tips?"

"I swear I'm asking for the quartet's card later incase I need musical accompaniment at any event I plan in the future."

Blaine smiled, his eyes following his fingers that played with the buttons on his jacket. "So, um, I don't suppose you want to dance?"

Kurt almost choked. "Dance?"

Blaine's eyes were wide and expectant. "It's ok if you don't want to, I mean, I kinda presumed you would want to be up there at the first opportunity."

Kurt scoffed. "Well, of course, any excuse to show off my moves, but I just-"

Blaine nodded, understanding. "I get it, I don't want to push you, I just thought you might want to but if you feel uncomfortable then that's fine. I wanted to still ask."

Kurt felt himself tense and his skin tingle. He smiled, slow and meaningful. "I do want to," he whispered, before finding his voice again, "I do, I've just never really been asked before. I mean at my dad's wedding, Finn all but dragged me up which was kinda sweet but-"

"You've never really been asked properly?"

Kurt laughed, feeling his cheeks darken childishly. He could feel his inner monologue scolding himself for being so coy and not jumping at the chance to waltz with Blaine the second he suggested it. He straightened in his seat reminding himself who he was. Kurt Hummel – Fearless, fashionable soprano.

"No I haven't but that doesn't mean I don't want to now. I'm sorry, you just caught me off guard." He spoke as he stood, his heart thuddering in his chest. He kept his eyes on Blaine.

"It's no problem. It'd be my pleasure." Blaine's smile grew wider, his eyes glittering, "I couldn't leave my date alone at a table and not ask him to dance. I mean, I have a reputation to uphold." Blaine winked and went to reach down to take Kurt's hand.

Kurt froze. "Date?"

Blaine's forehead crinkled, his eyes animated. "Obviously."

"I... I didn't know that's what this was," Kurt murmured, a delicious ache spreading through his entire body, a weird kind of happiness that sent his head reeling.

Blaine laughed. "Why did you think I asked you?"

"Because I'm the new kid and I'd be left in my dorm and well because you're Blaine, gentleman through and through."

It was all Kurt could do to speak. He watched as Blaine reached out and took his hand, his skin flushing from the touch. He wanted to swoon, he wanted to breathe out the 'wow' that teased at his lips but he found Blaine's eyes and let himself be led.

"I asked you because I wanted to Kurt, I told you that. We gonna show them how it's done or what?"

Kurt laughed, his heart swooping and beating faster than he thought possible. As he nodded, his smile impossible to suppress, Blaine's arm found his waist. It was slow motion, Kurt was sure of it. He felt the warmth and the tiny details, Blaine's fingers shuffling a little to find their spot against his hip. He let his eyes momentarily glance around the room expecting to see at least someone staring or passing judgement but people we're dancing themselves. Nobody seemed to glance in their direction. He knew a few people must have been but he didn't care. Blaine was pressed against him, his arm holding tight to Kurt and they were swaying.

"You're a terrible dancer," Kurt mumbled, his lips brushing Blaine's cheek without him realising. Blaine started to laugh, his chest vibrating against Kurt's.

"You're so sweet. I definitely made the right choice in asking you as my date."

Kurt smiled, aching to rest his head on Blaine's shoulder and curl closer. "I know, I'm awesome."

Blaine pulled away slowly, his eyes finding Kurt's. "Come on then, Gene Kelly, show me what I'm doing wrong."

Kurt laughed, pulling at Blaine's arm till is stiffened and arched. "You need to be solid and keep your dance space, like Dirty Dancing you know? Plus you need to tell your brain to remember you have feet and they need to move in time and not," Kurt giggled, "step on the other person's."

Blaine frowned, a smirk sneaking on his lips, and followed Kurt's advice. He was washboard rigid now. It wasn't easy. He kept his countenance resolute and raised his eyebrows as if to question his new skills. Kurt burst into laughter, his eyes twinkling. Blaine was sure his heart would explode at how cute and happy Kurt looked. It was worth making a fool out of himself for.

"Blaine I can't feel my fingers," Kurt groaned out, "you're squishing them."

The other boy loosened his grip and shook himself free. "Look, I don't think I'm ever going to be good at this. How about we just make up our own rules? We don't have to conform, right?"

It was all Kurt could do to resist another loud laugh. "Says you Mr Dalton, but I don't think we need to worry about conforming, we're two guys dancing together. Think we've kicked conformity's ass to be honest. How about you just dance how you feel comfortable so my fingers can regain their feelings."

Blaine chuckled. It was fun. Kurt was fun. It was all so different, so polar compared to last year when Blaine had been forced to waltz with the other girls and had spent most of the night sitting by Thomas and wishing he could just scream from frustration.

"Dance how I want to?" Blaine asked.

"Exactly," Kurt replied with a nod.

He watched as Blaine smiled somewhat mischievously with only a tiny hint of nerves. He felt as Blaine's arms pulled him close, wrapping themselves around his waist and holding tight. Kurt stiffened a little, his breathing stuttering, until he closed his eyes. It was overwhelming, the feeling of the warmth of another person, someone he liked, someone he felt a whole lot for and someone he had dreamt of being as close to since they first met. He lowered his head onto Blaine's shoulder, enjoying (far too much) the way Blaine smiled into his neck. They weren't that different in height, Kurt having a tiny advantage, but they fit together nicely.

"How's your first Snow Ball?" Blaine whispered, Kurt shivering as he felt the words on his skin.

Kurt sighed, content and dreamy. "Awful, terrible, the worst ever," he whispered back, his words lazy.

"Glad to hear it," Blaine replied, his arms tightening a little. Kurt felt every movement, every miniscule touch and wondered how it was happening, how it was possible and how he got so lucky. The room was as beautiful as he could have ever imagined and ever created himself and he was dancing infront of the entire room with the one person he wanted to. His head reeled from the realisation as he slowly let himself curl that little bit closer and forget, for that very perfect moment, anything bad that had ever tainted his very capable heart.

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_


	12. Feelings and Fuzziness

_**Wow. Thanks a MILLION for all of your reviews for the last Chapter and for those who have just found the story and are commenting on each Chapter – you made me smile ridiculously.**_

_**This is the final Snow Ball chapter. I REALLY hope you like it. I think I even swooned writing the end bit. **_

_**For those interested in Thomas still, he is in the next Chapter a little too. More is explained : )**_

Kurt was sure they danced for hours. The music turned from enchanting Christmas songs to the more cheesy party tunes usually found at festive parties and, amongst these songs, were classic sing along tunes designed to whip up any congregation into a lip syncing frenzy. Kurt could barely believe that Dalton Academy even allowed Queen let alone Cyndi Lauper. He was sure half of the older male faculty members had requested a particular Ms Lauper number specially, noting their bulging eyes as dozens of very pretty girls bopped and sashayed to the beat.

Blaine was definitely a terrible dancer though. Kurt was now sure of it. After his rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody accompanied by David on the air guitar, Kurt was sure he'd seen it all. Kurt simply watched and laughed till his cheeks ached and throat felt raw. Blaine was so different, much looser and a shadow of his more 'put together' self he displayed when required, however, nothing could mask his more upper class way of dancing and holding himself. It was singularly one of the most endearing aspects of Blaine's personality.

"So, I saw you two dancing," Wes said, sliding into the seat beside Kurt, his eyes also on Blaine and David on the dance floor.

"It was nice," Kurt lied, underplaying possibly one of the sweetest moments of his life to date.

Wes laughed, loud and haughty. "Nice!", he spat, "nice is tea with your Grandma Kurt."

Kurt flushed, taking his eyes off Blaine out of fear of his actions being misconstrued. "Just get to the point Wes."

"Well, Hummel," Wes spoke as he slotted his hands behind his head, leaning back in his chair, "I've seen how you two are together. You're both so ga-ga for each other that it's pretty sickening." Wes winked, nudging Kurt's shoulder with his own.

"Ga-ga?"

"Yes, Kurt. Don't even try and deny it."

"Blaine's incredible. There you go. Now you can gloat as much as you want."

Wes smiled, downing an abandoned glass of mulled wine in front of him. "So what are you going to do about it, new kid?"

It was all Kurt could do not to recoil from the conversation. If anyone was indiscrete, Wes was. "I'm not going to do anything Wesley, Blaine's my friend. We had a very pleasant evening and that's that."

"Kurt, Kurt, Kurt... I have to say I'm disappointed."

"Wes, I haven't been here long. I know Blaine asked me here tonight as his date and I'm so flattered and touched but it extends no further than that. I'm the 'new kid' as you keep reminding me. The last thing I'm going to do is make eyes at The Warbler's front man regardless of how lovely he is."

"Lovely?" Wes asked, his eyebrows so high they hit his hairline.

Kurt sighed dramatically. "Ok, dreamy. Oh Wes, please leave it. I don't want any drama here. I am not opposed to drama of the correct kind but I'm still learning where I fit here and I am not going to make Blaine feel uncomfortable."

Wes didn't push it. He simply watched as Kurt's head tipped ever so slightly to the side, his glazed eyes incapable of leaving the dance floor and a certain curly haired brunette. Lovely, he mentally scoffed, my ass.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

Wes, it seemed later on, had made rounds of every table in the place at which the adults or faculty members sat and drank their mulled wine reserves.

"Jeez Wes, how much have you had?" Blaine asked, supporting his friend under his arm.

"Little teeny bit," Wes slurred slightly, his pupils dilated, "just a few teeny glasses. It's fine. I'm going to ask Melinda if she wants to dance."

"Woah tiger," Blaine warned, "you, my friend, have a rather pretty girlfriend who goes by the name of Kate. Melinda has a tattoo on her lower back which reads 'Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy'. You don't want to go there."

Wes groaned, patting Blaine away. "I want, I want."

Kurt just laughed, his eyes rolling in his sockets. It took them ten minutes to position Wes in the corner out of the line of sight of anyone who could potentially suspend Wes quicker than he would pounce on Melinda. David stayed with him and forced him to drink small sips of water. Kurt considered it a pretty adorable image.

"I sometimes wonder why I ever started hanging around with those two," Blaine groaned, a smirk teasing its way onto his face. He breathed out a laugh, lowering himself into one of the dining chairs by Kurt.

"They're crazy but they mean well."

"That's true. In all honesty I don't know what I would have done without them and Thomas. Definitely Thomas."

Kurt still didn't get the connection there but didn't pry- part of him worried about the answer he'd be given.

"So, the Snow Ball is incredible," Kurt mused, glancing sideways at Blaine who was tugging at his bow tie.

Blaine's hands dropped as his eyes me Kurt's. He was sure he'd never seen Kurt look more spectacular. His hair and clothes were still immaculate but, knowing Kurt the amount he did, he didn't think he ever changed in that department. The one thing that bowled Blaine over was Kurt's eyes. They were, without a doubt, the windows to his soul. Blaine had been party to minute changes in them even mid sentence which gave away even the tiniest switch in emotion. It was fascinating to watch.

"Well, it's your first Dalton tradition so I am so happy it has your stamp of approval. I hope you feel a little better about everything." Blaine ensured his eyes followed the nuances on Kurt's as he spoke.

"I do," Kurt replied, his face softening, "I am so pleased I came. If anything, I got to see your memorable rendition of a Freddy Mercury classic."

Blaine hid his face in his hands. "Oh blame David. He's a bit of a Queen fan."

"Oh and you weren't into it at all," Kurt taunted mischievously.

The sound of Blaine's laugh made his heart soar. He was used to being the sarcastic one, the one who offered the quick witted replies and colder retorts but usually nobody responded – certainly never with genuine laughter.

"Ok, I loved it. Happy now?"

"Very," Kurt nodded. His eyes flickering to behind Blaine.

"Thornton, I'm off. We need to do something next week, ok?" Thomas asked, his hand resting low on Blaine's back as he stood. They hugged, Kurt taking in Thomas's arms and the way they squeezed Blaine affectionately. He watched as they spoke for a while. Blaine was obviously very comfortable in Thomas' presence, his eyes lighting up as he spoke to him and gestured wildly. It wasn't composed Blaine anymore, it was Blaine in full flow and entirely ensconced in another person.

Something inside Kurt hurt. It wasn't as if he believed he had a true shot with Blaine but he definitely had let his mind consider it – one or twice (hourly). Thomas was tall, muscular, tanned and the stereotypical model type. He was also gay, charming and blatantly loaded. He was sure Kurt had to be a rower as his arms were wider than both of Kurt's legs put together, not to mention his strong shoulders. He was impossible and pointless to compete against. It was plain for all to see how much Blaine liked him, his smile was enormous as they hugged once more and waved to each other as Thomas reached the door. Kurt watched as Blaine straightened out his jacket and sank back into his chair again.

"Sorry about that, I hardly get to see him."

Kurt faked a smile, tight and forced. "He's a nice guy," he attempted, meaning it but wishing he didn't.

Blaine grinned widely. "Really? You think so?"

Kurt wanted to die. Was he really almost supporting and encouraging this? "He was very sweet earlier."

Blaine was noticeably happy. Kurt couldn't lie and pretend like Thomas had been anything other than admirable, but his own disappointment tugged awkwardly inside regardless.

"He's great. Always has been," Blaine gushed, obviously animated, noticing Kurt attempt to hide a yawn, "anyway, people seem to be drifting home and it's pretty late. You want to go up?"

Kurt offered a little smile. "Yea, that sounds good," he agreed, "although I think Wes may need carrying upstairs." His attempt at a joke cause Blaine to smile all lopsided and goofy. Kurt felt his stomach drop a thousand feet. As they walked towards Wes, he only wanted one thing – to get out of his suit and ramble to Pavarotti for a while. There was too much happening, too many feelings, too much conflicting inside of his head that he simply wanted space and silence.

-.-.-.-.-.

"Blaine, seriously though, Blaine you're such a good friend," Wes slurred out as they walked, slowly and gradually, up to the dorms.

"I know Wesley, I love you too," Blaine replied, ruffling his friend's hair and rolling his hazel eyes at David who was mercilessly dragging Wes's heavy arm around his neck.

"Yes there's a lot of love in Dalton tonight but Wes less talking, more walking," David commanded.

"I think I may have had...champagne too. Melinda swiped a bottle. Not good for me."

Kurt watched as Blaine groaned, closing his eyes. "Great Wes, you risked getting kicked out for tattoo girl and now we have to carry you to bed. Thank you. Thank you very much."

"Awwwwww," Wes crooned, "you are all so nice. David you're my best friend. Dave, man, you're awesome. Blaine, dude, I do love you. You know that? David loves you, I love you, Kurt definitely loves you."

Kurt's eyes flashed open, secretly screaming a mental prayer that Wes would stop talking.

Blaine didn't seem too distracted. "Well it's good to know. Now it's time for you to sleep. Can you do that?" he asked as they reached Wes' door.

"I will try my friend, I will, I promise."

David took over and seemed to be able to deal with the drunken mess himself. Kurt smiled, suppressing a giggle as the door closed, the final image being of Wes slumped messily over David's back.

Now they were alone.

Kurt felt the silence. His ears pulsed and heart raced as Blaine turned to him, still amused by the thought of what was occurring on the other side of Wes' door. They started walking along to their section of the corridor.

Kurt needed to speak, he needed to break the quiet. The halls were nearly creepy in the dark, the moonless expanses of dorms stretching out before them before Blaine switched the wall scones on.

Blaine didn't seem to be affected by the fact they were alone in a deserted part of the building. Kurt was sure, there and then that it was because he had eyes for Thomas, he only saw Kurt as a friend, one that he didn't mind taking on a date and escorting back to his room. As flattering as it was, Kurt felt his heart wane again as he remembered how he felt as they'd danced and laughed together.

"So, new kid," Blaine smiled as they reached Kurt's door first, "it's been a pleasure."

_New kid_. Those words that had once been a term of endearment now hung in the air like evil reminders of Kurt's inability to find someone who could stand as a potential, someone he could give his heart to.

Kurt sighed, looking hesitantly into Blaine's bright eyes. They shone in the lamplight. "Thank you for inviting me and for the dance and for making me feel so welcome."

Blaine grinned again. Kurt could feel the onset of coronary failure again but scorned himself for his eagerness to feel things. He was foolish with emotions.

"I just wanted to say something," Blaine started, "I am proud of you." Kurt felt actual tears prickle. This wasn't happening. Blaine was not being this nice.

"Oh," was all he could say.

Blaine went on. "What I mean is that I really struggled last year and I felt awful. I had the worst night and ended up in my dorm complaining to Pavarotti about how much my night sucked and how I hated Dalton. You... well you're fearless. You embraced tonight and I was so happy that you agreed to go with me."

"Blaine, I'm not fearless," Kurt whispered, suddenly wishing for the other side of the door. Blaine was flawless in his kindness, unfalteringly generous in his compliments and so very handsome when he was honest. None of which was helping.

The other boy shook his head violently. "You don't see yourself the way others do. Believe me. Anyway, enough of me going on. I better let you get to sleep before I bore you into it. I just wanted you to know that."

Kurt had to smile. His emotions got the better of him as his eyes tracked Blaine's face taking in his piercing eyes and warm smile in turn. Blaine just looked. He could see it, the flicker of awkwardness in Kurt's eyes, the hint of him feeling uncomfortable. He had to take it away.

"Thank you again for inviting me, you were ever the gentleman," Kurt whispered again, his confidence diminished a little.

Blaine's eyes never left Kurt's. It was as if he needed him to feel how much he wanted Kurt to be happy and at ease. "You really don't need to thank me. I had the best fun tonight and that was pretty much down to you so..."

Kurt glanced down at his feet then back up slowly. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow and before we leave for Christmas break?"

Blaine smiled contentedly. "Definitely, we have a Warbler tradition for after the Snow Ball that I think you'll love but I'll keep it a surprise."

Kurt all but swooned. Blaine's finger extended tentatively to touch Kurt's hand by his side. It was a tiny gesture, probably without any significant meaning, but Kurt felt the sparks run through his entire body and cursed himself for being so damn emotional.

"I can't wait," he said softly.

That's what did it. Blaine could barely stand to see the look in the other boy's eyes. So vulnerable and gentle in the half light compared to his usual sparky glint. He hooked his finger to Kurt's, his spine shivering as he did so, and ever so slightly pulled. Kurt stepped half an inch forward, his eyes widening as Blaine's leaned up to press a warm and tender kiss to his cheek. He lingered more than he knew he should, feeling the cool of Kurt's skin and closing his eyes momentarily. It took every inch of resolve for Kurt to stay upright. He knew he'd turned pink and knew his eyes gave away much more than he intended but he hardly cared at all. He went to speak but nothing came out.

"Goodnight then," Blaine sighed out dreamily as he smiled, "Sleep well."

With that, Blaine turned and disappeared down the darker end of the corridor towards his own room. Kurt watched until he disappeared, his heart beating so fast that he could feel it in his fingertips. He could barely breathe. He closed his eyes, his hand finding his cheek and slowly but surely turned the handle to his door.


	13. Inevitable

_**Wow. Talk about an influx of reviews. Some of them seriously are the NICEST comments anyone has made about my writing before. I simply LOVE telling stories. I don't like to be too self indulgent etc, I just like writing moments and feelings and I am SO unbelievably happy that it comes across well and you all like it.I can really understand Kurt weirdly which is why I wanted to write them in the first place – plus the fact that I bloody ADORE Glee and I've always been a Kurt girl. (Darren's another topic for another day though... ;) )**_

_**I KNOW it's slow burn. It's the way I want it to be. NOBODY in Kurt's position would be ABLE to jump into a relationship and nobody with a head on their shoulder would push him. Don't worry though... this isn't simply a friendship story ;) Takes time.**_

_**I can't thank you enough for your SUCH incredibly kind words – the following people especially:  
xbleedinglotusx, Spite the Wufei Worshipper, Leriana, Golden Perception, madeline1410, shareitwithme, babelogue, JP Wings, BonesGurl81, Nittyismyname, Stacytasia, Lemonade Mouth (again!) and a big cuddle for paintpurple who wrote the CUTEST comments the other night on every chapter. This is not exhaustive but I wanted to say thank you after these 12 chapters for such KIND words.**_

_**I hope you enjoy this one...**_

Kurt turned over, his sheet wrapping itself around his legs, and yawned. There had been some sort of commotion outside in the corridor for around an hour but Pavi was still sleeping, his head tucked under his wing and Kurt wasn't about to untuck himself from his cocoon of warmth.

He thought of the night before - Thomas, the dancing, drunken Wes and the fact he'd completely crashed on his bed minus any nightly ritual or any pajamas. It was all a blur until his brain reached Blaine's kiss. It was confusing and wonderful all at once. He snuggled down into his sheets to remember every detail, the way Blaine's lips felt, the cute way he'd tugged at his fingers, how close he'd been and the look in his eyes before he'd walked away. Kurt felt his brain tangle in protest. Nothing was concrete, nothing was written in stone and expressed but that didn't stop Kurt wishing that Blaine would simply crawl into bed with him and kiss him stupid. Damn brain, he cursed, shut up.

-.-.-.-.-

Blaine was sure he'd over stepped the mark but simply did not care. He looked into Kurt's eyes daily and knew them like second nature now, the way they teared up so easily, the way they sparkled in awe, the way they sharpened and struck cold ready to fight, the way they widened in mischief and he'd all but tattooed to memory the way they'd looked as he'd leaned in to kiss him. Kurt was lonely. Blaine almost felt it when he spent time with Kurt, he felt how Kurt would press slightly to him or shuffle closer to someone or drag conversations on that little bit longer. He was his own person and stronger than anyone else he knew but if Blaine was sure of anything, he was sure that Kurt protected his heart. He was never going to fight that, not even a little bit, as Blaine knew exactly how steadfastly he used to guard himself from being hurt. Kurt's mother, his father's illness, his less than pleasant experiences at school and the way his friends had seemed volatile at the best of times – Kurt knew nothing of solid stability. Kurt was his own stability in life. His routines, his traditions, his need to control and plan, his confident streak aiming only to perfect and better himself... Blaine understood.

He tossed off the covers, hearing Wes and David approaching, and tugged a hand through his hair in an attempt to look less dishevelled.

"Thornton! Get your ass out of bed," David yelled through the crack in his door. Blaine laughed, throwing a sweater over his head and straightening his plaid pjs, as he heard Wes' low groan. Their epic breakfast was going to be fun this year.

"Morning," Blaine sang sarcastically as he yanked open the door causing Wes to frown and curl inwardly.

"Let me just ask one thing," Wes pleaded, his eyes screwed shut, "we keep the volume down to a minimum." Blaine and David considered it for a second, their eyes playful, before chorusing an agreed 'noooo' and dragging Wes off to Kurt's room.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Hummel now it's your turn to get your ass out of bed!" David shouted, clearly in ritual.

Kurt all but lept out of his blankets as he heard Blaine's voice softly explaining to Wes that his horrific headache was purely self inflicted and it was perfectly acceptable to tease him about it because he'd acted like an irresponsible three year old in the first place. Even Pavi seemed to flutter awake, pecking frustrated at his own ruffled feathers in protest.

"Oh god," Kurt mumbled, frantically attempting to find his pale grey cardigan in his closet, "oh god please don't open the door." He wasn't a big fan of emerging into public unless he'd assured himself he appeared presentable. Right at this very second, Kurt was sure his hair was sticking up pineapple-like and his face had pillow imprints.

"Hummel, unless you're at this door in five seconds, we're coming in. Get your ass up!" David boomed again, only causing Kurt to panic more.

He glanced in the mirror, clawing his fingers through his hair and attempting to re-position his swept back look. His white t-shirt was crinkled but his black pants were decent enough. It wasn't bad but it certainly was not good, especially not when he knew Blaine was standing on the other side of the door no doubt the picture of handsome dishevelment. Damn him.

"Ok come in," Kurt called back, trying to seem calm and collected as his heart tangoed in his chest.

The door swung open to reveal, yes, as Kurt thought, a rather beautifully handsome Blaine in his chunky knit, the kind Kurt only wished to snuggle up against and remove all at once. Next to Blaine was Wes who looked as if he was slowly dying and then David who was surprising alert and smiling- far too wide for the time of morning.

"Kurt, it's time for you to experience a Dalton epic breakfast," David announced, clearly proud of himself. Blaine smiled, rolling his eyes and then letting them rest on Kurt. It wasn't awkward or tense but simple and easy. Kurt felt himself relax immediately, his concerns and worries flood away as Blaine grinned again.

"What David means is, we have this tradition where we eat breakfast together before we go home for Christmas break and we have everything on the menu. It's kind of a highlight for David. I don't know if you'd noticed his enthusiasm."

Kurt giggled, watching as David hopped on the balls of his feet. "Kurt, you're going to love it."

"I don't think I can do this," Wes whined, clutching at his stomach, his eyes closing at the same time, "I really think I need to go back to bed."

It carried on in much the same vain until they reached senior commons. Kurt could already smell the pure bliss that was a mixture of bacon and pancakes. He felt his hand involuntarily touch his face, his brain mentally mapping the damage the food would do to his skin, but adhered to his rumbling tummy as they pushed open the large wooden doors.

Kurt would have fainted if David hadn't slapped him on the back before skipping to the table. Dozens of Dalton boys, all in pjamas, littered the large room and milled around the gigantic table set up in the centre. Isla, who Kurt had come to learn a great deal about and love in equal measure, was prancing about positioning plate after plate of what appeared to be delicious options.

Blaine caught Kurt's eye and smirked. "If you don't eat something, David will, and I know from personal experience, pin you down and force you."

Kurt nodded, seemingly unable to speak, and took his own plate.

-.-.-.-

"So what about you new kid, what are your plans for Christmas break?" Wes asked, now a little more alert with a few dozen blueberry pancakes inside of him.

Kurt found himself positioned in-between a now comatosed David and Blaine who was enjoying his second cup of coffee. Kurt was trying to concentrate, he really was, but things were different now and he could feel himself much more receptive to every single move that Blaine made, every noise and every single word he spoke. It was becoming ridiculous. As Blaine shuffled on the couch, the cushions bowing slightly, Kurt's spine tingled. When Blaine sipped his coffee, the smell diffusing over to where Kurt sat, he felt his eyes roll and when Blaine decided he'd tease Kurt about his unsuccessful attempt at rectifying his bed hair by reaching out and combing a strand back, Kurt was sure his heart was going to burst.

So as Wes asked him a simple, clear question, Kurt wasn't even sure he knew his own name. "Um, I, um, well," he started, his eyes flickering to Blaine then back to Wes, "I guess it's our first Christmas as a new family. It's always just been Dad and I before and now it'll be Carole and Finn too."

Wes nodded, obviously reluctant to pry further. "Nice. Thornton, your folks away again?"

Kurt watched as Blaine's eyes dropped. "Yea, think it's Sydney this year so I'll be off to Vermont for Christmas day and then back here for New Year again."

"You staying with Sylvie in Vermont?" Wes asked as Kurt listened intently, noting the change in Blaine's voice as he spoke.

"Yep, Grandma loves having me for Christmas," Blaine chuckled, his eyes wistful, "but she's away for New Year with my Aunt Harriet so I guess I'm a lone ranger again. What can you do?" he answered, brushing over the meaning behind his words with well rehearsed ambivalence.

As Wes's attention turned to David and George, Warbler beat boxer extraordinaire, Kurt let his eyes study Blaine. It was odd realising the very little that he actually knew about his life and anything outside of Dalton. Kurt felt himself panic once again. Was he just infatuated again regardless of really getting to know Blaine? Was it another case of, 'this guy's nice to me so I like him'? He thought back to Finn and the underlying reason that he began to see him in a different light – Finn had bullied him less, stood up to Puck and sometimes let him remove his expensive and coveted holdall before a dumpster toss. It was at that moment that Kurt's stomach dropped and he wanted to cry.

"You ok?" Blaine whispered with a slight nudge to Kurt's shoulder. Always the perceptive one, Kurt mused inwardly.

Kurt knew his eyes were watery and cheeks had turned paler. It wasn't easy to control his emotions especially when he'd suddenly come to the realisation that he was tragic, so very painfully tragic that he was willing and blinded by simple kindness. Blaine wasn't in love with him anymore than Finn was. Blaine was compassionate and open hearted, gentle and fun but he was also a stranger and still an utter mystery to Kurt.

"I'm fine," Kurt whispered back, attempting a smile.

"You don't look fine. Is this all a little much for you?" Blaine replied, keeping his voice low and turning slightly to angle the other Warblers out.

"How do you always know how I'm feeling? How can you sense it?"

Blaine seemed taken aback. "I guess it's your eyes. They talk without you even needing to speak."

Kurt looked up to Blaine slowly. "I don't really know you," was all he said and all he could say. It was as if he'd spent the past month in a rose tinted daze.

Blaine frowned, his eyes intent upon Kurt's obviously trying to read him. "You don't feel like you know me?"

Kurt could feel himself growing more and more uncomfortable, his cheeks darkening and ears beginning to burn. He turned away from the other Warblers too, suddenly wishing Blaine was the only other in the room.

"When you talked about your family, I realised I don't know you. I don't know anyone here, not really."

Blaine heavily sighed, placing his coffee cup down on the carpet and turning to face Kurt on the floor. "You don't need to know that my Grandma lives in Vermont or that I have an Aunt Harriet or that my parents travel to really know me Kurt. I guarantee you know more of the real me than most of the guys in this room. There's a reason that uniform changes me."

Kurt could see it – the honesty. Blaine wasn't lying or pretending to be anyone other than himself in the moment. He watched as the other boy shuffled a little uncomfortably, obviously concerned.

"I'm sorry Blaine," Kurt began, "I just still feel so brand new here and you've been so kind. You're like Paul from Breakfast at Tiffany's, you're so damn honourable and on this mission."

Blaine seemed to groan but smiled nonetheless. "Kurt, I'm sure you see me as some sort of superhero still. I assure you I am not but I do care. I care a lot and if that's not coming across then that's my issue to rectify."

Kurt felt his throat thicken. He glanced around to ensure nobody could overhear him and swallowed hard. "I don't know ... I have never had anyone like you before."

Blaine's eyes intensified, the air between them closing tight. "Caring for you?"

Kurt swallowed again, his chest aching and eyes stinging. "My dad cares. He does and he's the most important thing to me. Apart from him, when I thought I was going to lose him, I was terr-"

At this, Kurt felt his throat fail him, his chest resist the pressure it held inside and a single tear rolled down his cheek. Blaine seemed to move all at once.

"Guys, keep us some of the bacon when it comes out, I'm just going with Kurt to the First Aid stand. He's not feeling too good. I'll see you back here."

Kurt felt a warm hand on his back and before he knew it he was in the corridor, walking and turning a corner before two arms encircled him and pulled him close. He cried. He knew he couldn't keep it in and it'd been a long long time since he'd let his tears just flow, big and choked and honest.

"You need to cry. I think I cried for two weeks solid when I arrived here. You lasted way longer than me," Blaine murmured into Kurt's hair, his arms wrapping tighter, "Don't worry about the sweater, my Grandma knits me a new one every year. This one can be yours from now on seeing as it's going to felt from all of your tears," Blaine teased, whispering.

Kurt laughed, coughing a little as throat caught, his head resting on Blaine's shoulder. "When my dad fell ill, I thought that if I lost him that I'd be alone and I was right. I wouldn't have anyone at all. It put everything into perspective for me. I'm not religious. I don't have a God I can turn to. I don't really have anyone. I can take care of myself but sometimes-" he sniffed, the tears rising in his throat once more.

"Sometimes you wish you didn't have to be so good at being alone?" Blaine asked, quiet and close.

It was as if he could see inside Kurt's head, reading his mind and soothing each worry that flickered through it. Kurt felt his arms tighten around Blaine's waist, pressing himself closer and needing the warmth and comfort more than he ever thought possible.

"I don't want you to pity me. I don't want you to think I'm broken because I'm not," Kurt finally whispered low into Blaine's shoulder.

The other boy chuckled lightly. "Kurt you're anything but broken. I was the very personification of the word when I arrived here. Believe me, I do not pity you. I'm not standing here because I feel obliged to or because I feel sorry for you."

"Then why are you?"

Blaine drew a slow and steady breath. "Because I need you to understand that you're not alone in this. You may not know my mother's name or the colour of my bedroom walls but ever since I met you, it's like you see me. For me. I want you to understand that I know exactly how you're feeling and I need you to know that I am here. If nobody else is then that's the way of the world and it's their loss but I am. You don't need to know pointless irrelevant details to know that."

If Kurt was religious he would have called that moment an epiphany. If he was even remotely good at science he'd describe it as axis shifting. Regardless, he felt himself drain of energy entirely and hold tighter to another person than he had ever done before with a desperate need to believe every word Blaine spoke.


	14. Coffee and Computer Games

_**Oh god you're all SO sweet. Thank you to everyone who has commented saying "I never review but..." – WOW. I can't believe I made you break your own rules. No, seriously it is so lovely of you and I'm genuinely touched by the NICEST messages. You shall spur me on to write more.**_

_**To answer some of the comments about certain issues:  
1. Slow burn – I'm SOOOO happy so many of you are supportive of the pace and LIKE it and even have ASKED me to keep it at such a pace to keep the development real and organic. Wow, never thought people would react like that so I'm so happy.**_

_**2. RorieAngel mentioned more of Blaine's POV – I shall definitely add more in. A few have asked for that. I have massive chunks already written so I promise, more will come. I tend to get swept up with Kurt as I GET how he feels but the inner workings of Blaine's lovely mind are not forgotten.**_

_**3. The length – people have said that the don't want me to end it soon and want me to keep writing the development and to take it 'beyond' them getting together (ifffff, haha, no i tease) and to show what happens after. This is from a comment made by paperotta :D I promise I have many chapters planned/written and I don't intend on "fading out" at all :D**_

_**4. Protector of Canon2 – Mentioned how Kurt is unlikely to throw himself at Blaine as he'd have learned from Finn. BELIEVE me there will be NO throwing at anyone, haha! That's never going to happen, I agree... Kurt just wouldn't. **_

_**5. Change in pace at Chapter 13 - I needed and wanted to write that Chapter as I needed more truth between them. Blaine in the show is mysterious and unexplored and Kurt really knows 0 about him. I wanted them a little closer and I have a feeling Kurt is like a ticking time bomb... needs to just let it all out. So... Chapter 13 happened. So pleased it was well received. **_

_**WOW – RAMBLE. Anyway, thank you SOSOSOSO much again and I hope you enjoy this instalment - again, it's a LITTLE different to the others in pace and subject matter but I promise, the next chapter is VERY VERY Blaine and Kurt interaction orientated, ha! I had SO much fun writing this... :D  
**_

**Two Days Later**

Blaine was sick. He rarely got ill and when he did, he treated it like a one man mission to prove his body wrong. It wasn't very sensible but from an early age his father had deemed it weak and unproductive to succumb to illness, hence Blaine's thick scarf, woollen hat and constant shiverring as he waited in Dalton's turning circle, kicking the snow at regular intervals.

He hadn't seen Kurt since the previous morning, always ensuring he checked with Wes to make damn sure the other boy wasn't seemingly upset or down in the mouth. Wes' reports were short but sweet – "New kid's fine. He aced French." Or "New kid smiled today, no worries."

Their final week was drawing to a close and most Dalton boys were obviously returning home for the holidays or preparing to stick around in their dorms, attending the annual Dalton Christmas dinner for over-holiday boarders. Blaine had been there, done that. This year, he told himself, I shall not be eating second rate Turkey with other boys who look equally as miserable.

Sylvie had emailed him a month previous, arranging their trip, much to Blaine's amusement. He'd questioned her new found technological knowledge, to which she'd replied "darling, I like to stay ahead of the curve." He smiled, knowing his Grandmother as he did and recognising her tenacity in every area of life, including the furtherance of her own education and knowledge even at over 70 years old. She was young spirited, youthful looking and the most organised and assertive woman Blaine was sure he'd ever meet. She'd delighted in his acceptance and emailed weekly to tell him of her preparations. So far it appeared she'd made her own puddings which she'd stored in her pantry to "fuse" as she put it, she'd baked a Christmas cake (Blaine not having the heart to tell her he loathed it) and she'd even created her own pottery holy family – painted and varnished- for her table centrepiece. Blaine loved Sylvie and not only for her kick ass dominance and wonderful spirit. His being gay had been received like water off a ducks back, nothing but a passing piece of knowledge that was accepted and dealt with. Not understanding it fully being from an older and more conservative generation, she'd still stood solid and opened her arms as he nervously waited for her reaction. He remembered feeling odd as she'd cuddled him, not even being sure when she'd ever embraced him with such warmth but he knew he'd never forget her perfume. Lilies. Strong but pretty.

As Blaine waited in the car park, Kurt glanced out of his window, watching the snow fall. After a two hour Skype session with Mercedes, he felt the need for some silence. He'd wooped and hollered more than he was sure he'd done in weeks. The noise was good, amazing even, but Dalton was definitely helpful when you needed quiet. He watched as Blaine huddled down into his jacket, obviously freezing, and pushed his foot into the drifting snow. They'd talked some more, Kurt mainly spilling his guts and Blaine listening, as usual. It'd helped more than Kurt was sure he could put into words and it had changed their relationship entirely. They were still a little nervous around each other but now it wasn't through fear of the unknown or unfamiliar – Kurt couldn't help feeling jittery even when Blaine was close and he knew it wouldn't ever go away. It felt good. They had a closeness now and a certain unspoken understanding that Kurt held so close to his heart. He really trusted in the fact that he had a true friend.

It was at this point that Thomas Masters exited his car and walked to greet Blaine, throwing his arms around the other boy's neck and holding on, for what Kurt considered, more than you would a normal friend. Kurt watched the entire scene, sighed and with a slightly heavier heart, returned to his reading.

-.-.-.-.-.

"You look terrible," Thomas said, his face contorting with worry, "why aren't you in bed, resting and staying out of this?" He gestured to the falling flakes.

Blaine smiled. "Not going to pass up the opportunity to see you am I?" he teased, bumping his elbow to Thomas'.

He grinned. "Aw shucks, you always know how to win me over don't you?" Thomas laughed out, "alright, we going to go before you actually contract pneumonia?"

Blaine nodded, a chuckle on his lips. "Please."

It took them half an hour to make the ten minute journey to their favourite coffee shop, stopping the car then trudging their way across the parkland and into the warm. Blaine shivered as the heat engulfed him, his skin now burning from the change in temperature. Thomas watched him like a hawk.

"You better not die on me," he warned playfully, "I refuse to be on the news."

Blaine laughed and rolled his eyes. "Don't worry. I have flu not the plague Tom."

As they sat down, a hot steaming mug each, Thomas let his eyes track Blaine's face. "So, come on, what's happened?"

The other boy smirked knowingly, a hint of affection sneaking in. "What makes you think something's happened?"

"Because I know you... very well... and you're not your usual charmingly uptight self, you're softer."

"That's so kind of you," Blaine stated, firing daggers mischievously over the table.

Thomas simply laughed. "Come on, tell me, Brown's boring, they all study and work and study and work and there's no drama. I need yours. I need to feed off it to starve my gene... you know the one that needs to have something going on?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Well, what are you referring to and I'll fill you in. That make you happy?"

"Yes," Thomas affirmed, "I was referring to you and the particularly stunning brunette with the eyes that could tell a thousand stories. What's going on there?"

Blaine stared into his coffee cup as if it was the world's most fascinating pool of brown liquid. "Tom...," he whined quietly, "can we not start somewhere a little kinder?"

"No."

Blaine looked up into Thomas' eyes and smiled. He could never resist them. "Well, there's not much to say really. He's settling in ok, going through a bit of a rough patch but he'll be fine."

"He cried yet?" Thomas asked, his eyes boring in Blaine's soul.

"Yes. Lots. He's got it all of his system I think."

"Pavi helping?"

Blaine smiled. "They're best friends, just as I knew they would be. That bird's magic I swear. Although I think Kurt's his favourite. He's fashioned him a little bejewelled water canister and Pavi actually rubs himself against it. The bird's camper than Christmas."

Thomas laughed, sipping his coffee. "I miss that little thing," he muttered simply before moving on, "so how is he with the old Dalton traditions and rules? I can't imagine he loves it from the short amount of time that I spoke to him."

Blaine grinned, his mind casting back to Kurt's tantrum and bed kicking. "Got it out of his system I think. I mean, the uniform works for me but he's really into fashion and I think he felt too stifled. He's doing great and rebelling in his own way so he's good. He's realised we're not all a chorus of stuffed shirts after all."

"He been infront of Dad yet?" Thomas asked, smirking at the thought.

"No," Blaine chuckled, "no reason to. He studies hard, a little too hard sometimes, but I have a feeling if he didn't like something and truly believed in it, he'd fight till the death so a certain Mr Masters wants to look forward to that day."

"Oh good, he'll love that. He adores a challenge," Thomas replied with a smile, before pausing slighty and continuing, "and how long would you say you've been shamelessly in love with him for?"

Blaine stopped, mid sip and stared. If anyone knew him, Thomas did. If anyone saw through his eyes and into his very brain and soul, Thomas did.

"What?"

"Oh come on Thornton. I know you, remember? I could physically see your stomach fall ten storeys when you were dancing with him and I swear I've never seen you smile as much as that. Plus, nobody and I mean nobody, not even me, has ever been able to coax you into slow dancing. Remember, I tried?"

Blaine laughed loudly and covered his face. "Shut up. I don't even want to think about that. They were new shoes and that floor was slippery. I really made a great impression on everyone didn't I? There's a reason I went up to my room and hid for the next week."

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad," Thomas consoled, his eyes filled with amusement, "and don't think we've changed the subject because we haven't."

"Tom, I can't do anything about it. You know I can't."

"Yes you can."

"Come on, you're trying to tell me that when I was struggling and new and still getting to grips with everything after I transferred, that you'd have even tried it on with me?"

Thomas closed his eyes and shook his head, a twinge of reminiscent anxiety crossing his brow. "Oh believe me, if I hadn't have loved you simply as a brother and if I felt about you the way you clearly feel about Kurt... nothing would have stopped me."

"Awww you love me as a brother," Blaine cooed, snuggling his shoulders up and scrunching his nose, "I love you too Tom Tom."

"I swear you'll walk home in the snow if you keep doing that," Thomas warned, unable to stop smiling, "so are we in agreement that you can't stop thinking about him, it's all heart racing, stars in the eyes, butterflies in the stomach, sweating palms kind of situation?" Blaine peered over his mug, a small coy smile on his lips. He nodded slowly and a little hesitant. Thomas hit the table with a civilised noise of joy.

"It wouldn't feel right just being blunt about it. Not now. He's not ready for a big gay romance yet. I know him pretty well and I swear he can see right through me, just like you always could. He's so lonely."

"It sucks," Thomas sighed with wistful eyes, "we've both been there and it sucks."

"Tom I'm pretty much still there with the exception of two failed relationships, if you can even call them that and neither made me feel like... this."

"So, you take it slow," Thomas offered, "you just take one day at a time."

"It's currently glacial and that's the only pace I seem to be happy with. I see the way he looks sometimes, really distant and in a different world and I watch him sometimes when he smiles at something romantic or affectionate. I can almost see him curl in on himself. I just want to show him that he doesn't have to feel that way and that he can have all of that and more. I keep stopping myself from just reaching out and pulling him to me or doing soppy things like stroking his cheek. Little things that I know would make a difference but I can't."

Thomas was silent and thoughtful for a second. "Wow, Thornton, you really like him."

Blaine didn't speak, not needing to, he simply nodded. A tiny and enchanted smile teasing at his lips.

-.-.-.-.-.

"New kid?" Wes called from the corridor, "want some company?"

Kurt swung around in his chair and blanched, shocked by the offer when Blaine wasn't involved.

"Um, is it a Warbler thing?" he asked, unsure as to why Wes was interested in his singular company.

"No, just a Wes thing."

Kurt laughed, his eyes blinking up expectantly. "Of course, come in. I was going to leave this Chem work anyway. I plan on breaking Broadway and I still have to learn the chemical symbols for unused elements from hundreds of years ago. Education, eh?"

Wes nodded, bouncing himself onto Kurt's bed. "Tell me about it man, I left David pondering the meaning of life as his Philosophy class asked them to think of a topic they wanted to discuss. Obviously David went for a slightly wider one than I think Mrs Fullerton intended. He's clearly not coming out of his room till Christmas break."

This made Kurt smile as he spoke. "So you thought you'd come to bother me then?"

"Why of course. I wondered if you'd ever played Halo?"

"Finn has that game and no, no I haven't. The last time he offered to teach me, I remembered that Sky was covering New York fashion week. Priorities, right?" Kurt joked, his eyes ensuring he hadn't freaked Wes out.

"Definitely. I'd even pass up Halo for ladies in skimpy dresses."

Kurt giggled hard, smiling ear to ear. "So are you going to teach me then?"

-.-.-.-.-.-

Blaine made his way up the stairs and frowned in an attempt to make out the location of the screeching. He followed it to Wes' room and almost passed out at the sight.

Wes was seated at the end of his bed facing his television with his X Box controller in his steely grip, his arms flailing but eyes dead set on the screen. He'd shout at random intervals commands like "snipe snipe snipe!" or "run Kurt they're coming, no not into the wall, through the doorway!". Kurt was laughing and jumping up and down, seated in an Indian style position, his fingers daintily pressing the buttons but with a fierce and determined intensity.

"Wes, you said press green to jump, what's going on?"

"No, that's duck. That grey button, the one on the back. Press it. KURT! PRESS IT NOW! YES! Head shot. Oh you are my hero. Kicked their asses well and truly."

Blaine watched as Kurt threw his controller triumphantly and clapped with so much joy before high fiving Wes and settling back down to choose their next map and set of victims.

Blaine felt himself sigh happily. Wes was cool like that. He remembered coming back from his Latin assessment feeling miserable about his struggle in the only subject he thought he was good at after saying goodbye to Thomas for Christmas. Wes had offered to introduce him to Lord of the Rings, popping two bags of popcorn as snacks and a definite bribe. Blaine had hauled up in Wes' room with a very serious David (he aimed to take the pilgrimage to Mordor in his future) and grown lost in the magical world. He'd mooned over some of the more handsome guys secretly and enjoyed the more dramatic and nerdy aspects. He'd felt embarrassed and nervous to say anything about guys or anything remotely referencing his sexuality until Wes had chimed up with "so I guess he's pretty hot right?". From then on they'd been friends.

Blaine watched for a few seconds longer before smiling broadly, feeling his heart swell and shudder gleefully, and retreating back to his dorm to take as much flu medication as he could physically withstand without hospitalisation.


	15. Baby Steps

_**Right, after two slightly different Chapters but ones I REALLY wanted to include... this one will HOPEFULLY make you "awww" like you've all been telling me about. Honestly, to read that this story makes you smile really makes the whole thing worth it :D**_

_**I posted two quite quickly as it may be a day and a bit before I can get another up ... will see how busy I am! Promise I will try.  
**_

_**Thank you AS ALWAYS for the LOVELY feedback. I sincerely hope you enjoy this instalment...Again my shameless adoration for curly hair creeps in. I know I said I try not to be self indulgent but I could barely help myself here! I could have written this forever...*sigh***_

Blaine was sure he was dying. His head felt stuffed full of sawdust, his lips were sore, temples were throbbing, throat felt razor cut and every single joint and muscle ached like nobody's business. He hadn't troubled anyone with his woes but had simply made himself scarce after the 'for fun' Warbler's practice the previous night. It was Thursday and the weekend meant Christmas break so Blaine's singular aim was to remain under the radar, hide out and cure himself before appearing for goodbyes on Saturday. He sighed, hefting himself onto his side and heavily flopping his tired head into the downy pillows for the hundredth time.

-.-.-.-.

Kurt was having withdrawl symptoms. It was pathetic and he recognised that fact but it was as if there was something missing, a giant gaping Blaine sized hole in his day that made it a little less brighter, a little less warmer and a lot less swoon-worthy.

"Kurt, how goes your day?" David asked, setting his tray down as he sidled into the bench for lunch. Kurt was already half way through his rye cracker and cream cheese pack up. David had opted for the Mexican chilli bake that looked as if it'd been cooked in grease, seasoned with a pinch of grease and served on a bed of grease with a side order of, well, grease. He couldn't physically stop himself from contorting his face in disgust.

"Erm, it's ok thanks. Classes are winding down now. Peterson cancelled this afternoon's class which is great because the empty stool next to me was beginning to look like a very attractive weapon to be aimed directly at his head." Kurt was crabby.

"I hear ya, Kurt, I hear ya. I'm still struggling with Philosophy homework. I mean life's just such a huge topic and I've realised just how insignificant we all are and how small I feel. I mean, it's so much bigger than us, than everything and yet it's so fragile and random."

Kurt had stopped listening from 'struggling' and had continued musing upon his thoughts until Wes slammed down his tray dramatically and smiled stupidly at them both. "What up you two?"

Kurt smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "Just lunch." He wanted to ask about Blaine, he really did but something stopped him. Would he look too obvious?

"Anyone know where my main man Blaine's disappeared to? Haven't seen him at all today? Don't say Thomas has kept him prisoner since yesterday afternoon?"

Kurt all but choked on his cracker. He coughed, smoothing down his jacket and then continued eating, his heart sinking.

"Think he's a little under the weather. Saw him yesterday coming home covered in snow. I honestly began to think he was dying until he assured me, and I quote, 'David I am fine. Please tell Wes I am fine. Tell anyone I am fine. Don't come looking for me. I'm fine.'"

Wes frowned. "So he's fine then?"

Kurt would have laughed if it wasn't for a hundred thoughts flooding his brain. He hadn't mentioned Kurt's name so did that mean that Blaine didn't mind Kurt visiting him or had he simply forgotten about Kurt? There it was again and he knew it- the confusion and mangling of his brain. He sighed, wishing he could just stop being such a drama queen, and excused himself.

Before he knew it his feet were walking of their own accord. He had to just see him, to make sure he was ok and to just talk to him, to look at him and to sit close to him. It felt like years since he'd heard Blaine's laugh or seen his smile and it just wasn't good enough. He wanted Blaine. Simple as that.

He reached the door, his heart pounding, and tentatively twisted the handle edging it forward ever so slightly. The room was dusky due to a half pulled curtain and freezing cold, the window had fallen open and the icy breeze was almost painful. Kurt gasped as he turned to Blaine's bed to see a mass of curls peeking out from under the duvet. It was like a boulder hit him square in his stomach. Blaine was composed, collected and utterly in control – usually. Kurt acted in automaton, closing the window, pulling the curtain a little to shed some light on the mess that was apparent in the room. He could see where Blaine had discarded his clothes from the day before, his skin turning pink just at the sight of them. He was going to clean and tidy but the thought of folding Blaine's shirt and trousers seemed too domestic for his heart to handle.

He began by stacking up the collection of mugs that were scattered haphazardly around the room followed by a mass clear out of any rubbish, all the while Blaine didn't stir. Kurt knew he was sick from the state of the room. Blaine was neat, not pristine and clinical neat, but very tidy and orderly even still. Kurt piled the tossed books in a pile noting that Blaine had been perusing his song books as their pages were wrinkled. He turned to the night stand and flicked the mountain of tissues into a bag, not even bothering to feel gross. If Kurt was good at anything, he was good at taking care of people. He'd had expert training in the shape of one Burt Hummel and was entirely practised in the art of soup making, atmosphere setting and flannel pressing, although the latter was not to be considered in Blaine's case – not if Kurt wished to refrain from heart attack.

Once the room was tidy once more, Kurt found the heater and turned the dial to maximum immediately, warming his own hands in turn. He kept his eyes on Blaine constantly, worrying that he'd be caught any second. As Kurt was returning from his own room carrying two extra sheepskin blankets to cover Blaine's Egyptian cotton throws, he heard a muffled yawn as Blaine's arm escaped from under the covers, exposing his head. He rubbed his eyes and groaned unhappily before attempting to blink awake. Kurt was frozen to the spot.

"Kurt?"

He couldn't move. As he turned slowly and steadily, letting his eyes fall onto Blaine's, he smiled, panicked. "Hi."

Blaine's eyes widened as they took in the room. He pulled himself up in bed a little and ran a hand seemingly self consciously through his hair. "Did you do all of this?"

Kurt realised he was carrying a stack of blankets and could hardly lie, plus the croaking of Blaine's voice made him ache to wrap him up and take care of him even more.

"That would be a yes," Kurt replied with a coy smile, "I um, hadn't seen you for a few days and David mentioned something about you being ill so... that brings us up to speed."

Blaine smiled. He'd simply crawled under the covers without the ability to think of anything but sleep. He found it a little difficult to breathe and it wasn't from his illness.

"Thank you."

Kurt rocked on his heels. "It's ok. I like taking care of people. I've had plenty of practice."

Blaine chuckled, suddenly feeling exposed and embarrassingly vulnerable. "I'm sorry you have to see me in this state, it's not the nicest image."

Kurt physically restrained himself from a noise of protest. He could barely believe what he was hearing as he placed the blankets down on Blaine's computer chair and draped them one by one over the bottom of the bed. Blaine simply watched Kurt preen the room, taking extra care over everything. He felt instantly better, warmer and cared for.

"For your information, you look fine. A little pale but fine. I wish I looked like you when I'm ill. I resemble Frankenstein's monster."

Blaine laughed, reaching for another tissue. "I don't believe that for a second. You're too fabulous to look anything less than on form. You could rock a bin bag and still look flawless."

Kurt knew he'd turned the colour of the paint box red comforter he'd just spread out. He had to say something to break the tension for himself. "Oh stop, you're making me blush," he replied without even thinking. Maybe self deprication would work.

"I can see," Blaine replied with a wink. That was it. Kurt sighed and smiled, feeling instantly more relaxed and at ease.

"So, are you going to run out of here and avoid catching my disease?" Blaine asked, his eyes a little desperate.

Kurt saw it, a tiny flicker of hope flash on the other boy's face. It was all he could do to remain composed. Blaine's bed looked positively inviting and he wanted nothing more in the whole world than to curl up beside him and care for him and...

"Kurt?"

Blaine watched as Kurt's cheeks blushed again, their usually pale pallor now an delectable shade of crimson. He felt his skin tingle with anticipation and amusement and a million other lovely feelings. Kurt was in his room, being honourable and adorable and actually going out of his way to take care of him.

"Oh I wouldn't dream of leaving you on your death bed. I'd feel terribly regretful if something happened to you." Kurt could hear his own words and wondered where in hell they'd come from. Clearly his brain was his best friend.

He watched as Blaine smiled huge and beaming. "You're so kind Sir. However will I repay you?"

Kurt's tummy fluttered with butterflies. He was sure this was shameless flirting but it felt so incredibly amazing that the nerves dissolved away entirely. Blaine was kind and gentle – what was there to be afraid of?

"Well, you could maybe do as I say so you get better..."

"That I can do," Blaine replied with an obedient nod.

"...and you can let me choose a movie?" Kurt smiled, his shoulders swaying a little. He felt pride at his ability to be a little bolder.

Blaine smirked flirtatiously, as much as he could muster in his poorly state, and pointed to his cabinet. "Be my guest."

After ten minutes of tossing movies to one side and arguing playfully over each other's taste, Kurt had decided upon The Philadelphia Story.

"James Stewart. Enough said," was his justification and as Blaine nodded in agreement, he was sure he was onto a winner.

Kurt slid the DVD into the slot and watched as the screen flickered to the menu. Now came the awkward moment of where to sit which always posed a problem. Never wishing to seem too forward and following his heart, he didn't feel able to crawl onto the bed and snuggle beside Blaine and not wanting to seem cold and impartial, he decided against the computer chair.

"Kurt, I can actually see the cogs turning inside your head. You're watching the movie on here," Blaine commanded, patting the bed beside him, causing Kurt to blink back in shock.

He smiled and began to climb up the bed to a rather demure and safe positon. Blaine was still all but lying down, his head propped up on a pillow and his Dalton rugby t-shirt peeking out from under the covers. Kurt's mind wandered to images of shorts and mud but was unkindly snapped to reality by the opening title track.

"So," Blaine began, scooting a little higher, "how have your few days been?"

Kurt dropped his gaze, realising how close he actually was to the other boy. "Ok I think. I got all of my work wrapped up and Wes taught me how to play Halo which was actually kind of fun. David schooled me on the meaning of life, I made Pavi a glittered perch and I spent a few hours on Skype with a few of my friends from McKinley. We've arranged to meet up over the Christmas break."

Blaine shuffled a little closer. Kurt felt every millimetre. "Sounds eventful."

"Thrilling," Kurt deadpanned, causing Blaine to laugh and nuzzle his head into the pillow. Kurt noticed the cat-like way he moved, clearly induced by illness and the need to be looked after. It was potentially the most adorable and heart achingly endearing thing he'd ever witnessed. Kurt still didn't move, unable to work out the logistics of it and the meaning it would convey so he remained still. The only problem being was Blaine's inability to remain still himself.

The movie progressed and Kurt found himself talking mostly about home and how Carole had told him about their plans for Christmas. Blaine had talked about Sylvie and given Kurt the full introduction to her. Kurt had decided that she sounded exactly the kind of person he wanted to meet.

As the wedding on screen neared, Kurt glanced down to see Blaine's eyes fall closed. He smiled, itching to reach out and touch. His hair was so much looser and softer and curlier. It was the curls that killed him, the way they screamed to be touched and played with. Before he knew what he was doing or saying, he felt his voice box and lips betray him.

"I love your hair," he whispered. His mind swore violently at him, cursing him repeatedly for the most moronic outburst of his life in potentially one of the most crucial relationships to date.

He watched nervously as Blaine opened his eyes, peeking up at Kurt. His face was non descript until a gentle and gradual smile appeared. "I always felt a little self conscious about it."

Kurt's heart sang. His brain bowed down in genius at the best way to break the ice and push the situation into a slightly more personal territory. This was baby step stuff but it was exactly what Kurt needed and felt desperate for.

"It's always the same isn't it? You have straight hair and you wish for curls and vice versa."

"I guess," Blaine murmured, "but this isn't just wavy, this is seriously curly. Why do you think I have to keep it under control here? Masters would have it shaved off in seconds and I just haven't got the ability to pull off a shaved head. No way."

Kurt actually giggled. It was fun feeling as if he could say anything. They were so close and he was more intimate than he'd ever been with another guy. His stomach clenched and soared simultaneously.

"It looks nice without any product."

Kurt was sure Blaine had shuffled a little closer.

"That's very kind of you. My hair appreciates the compliments," Blaine teased with a smirk. Still low down on the pillow, he glanced up at Kurt, their eyes connecting for longer than normal. Kurt felt himself tense in the nicest possible way, his heart beating in his fingertips again.

He had to just say something. "How are you feeling?"

If Blaine was honest, he'd have replied with either 'perfect', 'content', 'blissfully happy' or 'smitten' but none seemed appropriate- not yet. Instead he recognised his illness and felt how much it was creeping up on him. Teamed with the medication, the now warmer room and Kurt's presence, Blaine was sure he'd never been more comfortable and able to drift easier into sleep.

"Sleepy," Blaine replied, "but a lot better thanks to you."

Kurt nodded happily, seeming to congratulate himself on another successful effort. "You can sleep you know? I don't want to be a burden."

Blaine flinched. "Wow. Never use that word to describe yourself ever again. Ok? New rule."

A momentary flash of regret crossed Kurt's face as they fell silent. "I don't know why I said that."

Blaine nodded, reassuring Kurt with a small nudge. "Don't worry about it. It's never ever going to be true so just never think it again."

Nothing could have stopped Kurt in that moment from doing what he did. It was like a knee jerk reaction in thanks and gratitude for Blaine making him feel wanted and relevant and appreciated. He watched as Blaine's eyes closed again, his eyelids so heavy that it seemed impossible for them to resist. Kurt moved his right hand and let it hover on the pillow, his whole body so alert and on the verge of panic but he refused to let it rule him as usual. He could do this. He could be affectionate. He could just act and stop thinking about the circumstances. He could be intimate with another boy and above all, he could show just a little bit of the way he was feeling.

After peeking to see if Blaine's eyes were closed still, Kurt gently and ever so lightly brushed the hair from his forehead and didn't stop. He let his fingers play with the fluffy curls and toyed his fingers through them. He knew Blaine was awake as he felt his slight reaction to the touch but he wasn't moving and certainly wasn't recoiling in horror. Kurt felt his own eyes close and a giddy smile cross his lips. It was so small a gesture that he almost felt himself laugh at the ludicrous way he wanted to sing and dance and then pounce on Blaine and smother him with kisses. He thought of Thomas in that second and even considered stopping and making his excuses but Blaine wasn't resisting and he certainly wasn't objecting to Kurt on his bed.

As Kurt began to thread his fingers more and pet the side of Blaine's hair tenderly, he felt the other boy shift. His head lept in his chest thinking that this was the moment he'd be told to stop but Blaine simply tipped his head closer, his body following, and curved his arm, then his chest then his hips and legs to mould with Kurt.

Kurt didn't even know if it'd be considered insanity if he cried. He stopped himself, swallowing thickly, then sighed so happily he knew Blaine had heard it. He didn't let his fingers cease their soft combing of Blaine's hair and didn't shuffle away from the slight embrace, instead he edged closer nervously watching Blaine's face. He could feel the other boy's warmth through the thick blankets and found his own eyes sliding closed of their own accord. It was growing dusky and nothing in the world felt more natural.

-.-.-.-.

Blaine was ready to purr. He wondered how he hadn't sighed or made any little noise of satisfaction. He was ready to curl himself around Kurt and wrap himself up completely. He smelled of an odd kind of newness and a fresh vanilla scent that seemed so inherently Kurt. It was intoxicating and delicious and so soothing. The fact that his entire body was shivering pleasantly as Kurt let his fingers brush delicately through his hair, lingering slightly... it was all a little much. He didn't know what else to do or if he should say anything but he simply couldn't shake the realisation that he'd never quite felt this way before. It wasn't lust or a mild fancy, it was something deep and profoundly meaningful. He knew this was huge for Kurt and could sense his nerves through his simple touch. He was not going to make any sudden movements or open eyes his, primarily because it felt too damn nice but mainly because he knew how he'd first felt when he'd been able to go within a metre of another guy.

As he nuzzled closer to Kurt he felt the other boy respond easily and smoothly. It felt right. Nothing was rushed. Maybe the glacial pace was perfect and maybe it was working for both of them exactly was they wished and hoped. It took only seconds before both were asleep.


	16. Truth and Goodbyes

_**Wow. Over 200 reviews. Thank you thank you thank you. I say it every time but some of the comments I've received have been so overwhelmingly LOVELY. Some people have even commented saying they joined up to for this story – I mean, way to make my day ;) Thanks a MILLION for being so kind. It's FAR too nice of you and I sincerely hope it continues to be worth it.**_

_**I had a really yucky day yesterday and as I'm usually SO busy and write on my Blackberry on trains etc, I had a quiet day and had nothing better to do (for once) than enjoy writing this and watching Christmas movies. You'll see in the next Chapter how watching Danny Kaye and Bing Crosby woo Vera Ellen and Rosemary Clooney for two hours, influences your writing ;)**_

_**I'm also glad you like Thomas, there's still a little more to mention of him as Kurt's still wary but I like the parallels between them :D**_

_**This Chapter was a BITCH to write! Seriously. I spent ages going over and over it and I'm not looking at it again because I'm just posting it! HA! It is much longer and covers quite a few things so I really wanted to get the sequence of events right... hope I did. **_

_**I am apologising NOW for any teeny speech/punctuation mistakes maybe – after looking at this for so long I'm sure I'm blind to them. **_

_**I really hope you enjoy this one! ;)**_

Kurt sighed contentedly and pushed himself further into the duvet and blankets. He wriggled his hand free and cracked open his eyes a fraction. He froze still, his breath catching in his throat. He'd forgotten where he was entirely and simply felt himself staring as Blaine breathed softly beside him. It was dark now, the corridors silent and only the sound of the heater whirring in the corner.

Blaine was curled on his side, pressed snug against Kurt's arm, his arm lazily draped across Kurt's chest. His breathing was steady and deep, meaning he was sound asleep. Kurt couldn't move and simply didn't want to so he found himself just watching Blaine, attempting to acquaint himself with being so close to another person. He felt child-like, almost cringing that at his age, mere closeness was still something so alien to him.

He felt as if his skin was on fire, blanketed warm by the heat from Blaine. It was obvious he had a temperature but he didn't seem distressed or feverish- simply under the weather. Kurt smiled as the other boy muffled something into the pillow, possibly dreaming, and reached out again feeling braver. He brushed a lock of hair from Blaine's temple and sat back with a dreamy smile. It felt incredible to lie so near someone and to feel as if they weren't going to snap any second or that you were kidding yourself that they wanted you so close. He knew Blaine cared and knew that he had drifted off to sleep easily with Kurt near so there wasn't any concern anymore, it felt simpler now. He felt sleep pull him under again, his head pressed back into the pillow by Blaine's.

-.-.-.-.

As Blaine woke, the first thing he felt were the fingers gentle looped around his arm. A small gesture to many but to Blaine it was monumental. He smiled as the world came back into focus, realising that Kurt was not only asleep but snuggled right into his chest on top of the duvet, his head slotting just under Blaine's chin and his left hand holding on faintly to his lower arm. Blaine wasn't about to move but managed to glance at the clock on his nightstand- four in the morning.

He had to admit, he felt better. His head was molten lava, hot and feverish but rested and fluid. His throat still scratched but as he shuffled a little, his joints didn't appear to ache as acutely as before.

Kurt seemed to sense his alertness and blinked awake gradually. Blaine watched, half amused, as Kurt unravelled himself and noted, with a skipping heart, the contented smile plastered all-over his face. Blaine was sure he wore the same smile but didn't care – it felt too nice.

"So, you plastering yourself to me again?"

Kurt blushed furiously, his hand covering his smile briefly. "I seem to be making a habit of it."

"Well," Blaine whispered, "you may have noticed that I don't seem to mind."

Kurt could barely deal with the way those words made him feel.

"Oh," was all he mustered, his heart so full and head reeling at how close and connected he felt. He peeled his hand from Blaine's arm, blushing again, and wriggled a centimetre back in an attempt to be able to breathe steadily once more.

"It's four am," Blaine added, "we must have been asleep for quite a while."

Kurt didn't speak. His mind was wandering, trying so hard to channel it into doing something about the butterflies in his tummy.

"I don't think I stood a chance," Kurt whispered back, "it's just so warm and you have Egyptian cotton sheets. It was inevitable really." He kept his eyes on Blaine's.

"I didn't stand a chance, not with your fascination with my hair," Blaine teased, watching as Kurt's eyes widened at the mention of his baby step into affection.

"You have to tell me if I'm a little much," Kurt muttered, regretting it instantly.

Blaine sighed heavily. "Ok," he began, his face now kind but serious, "I want you to always presume that you can just be yourself. It's never stopped you before."

"Being myself," Kurt tentatively spoke, "has been a bit troublesome in the past that's all." Blaine simply raised his eyebrows as an invitation for Kurt to go on. "You know my brother Finn?," Blaine nodded, "well as you know, his mom married my dad and so we're kind of a new family. When the football team were giving me a hard time and making my life hell, Finn was the only who ever stuck up for me. He was the quarter back, tall, dark and kinda handsome so I was brainless and developed quite a big crush on him. He's obviously straight and he made a few comments about me being gay. Kind of closeted homophobia but we're good now. He's a good guy really and he's changed. He even made me dance at my dad's wedding and sang a song for me. It was all very touching. So that's my tragic story."

Blaine was silent, watching Kurt as he spoke. It was obvious that he was trivialising some of the emotions and making light of issues that were obviously very difficult but it was a step in the right direction.

"It's great that you're close now and it's all resolved. I do understand though. You're not the first gay person to get hung up on someone straight and you won't be the last. I've been there too."

"Really?" Kurt asked in wonderment. He had always craved conversations like this in order to just feel normal for once.

"Definitely," Blaine chuckled, "he was six foot and infinitely handsome. He looked like a Hungarian Prince or something, it was all very dreamy until he humiliated me in front of the entire school."

Kurt winced. "I'm sorry. That must have been horrible."

"Yeah but I guess everyone has to have a moment like that in high school. It keeps things interesting. You don't have to be gay to be treated that way I guess."

"True," Kurt mused, his head tilting affectionately.

"Look, I know you've had awful experiences in the past when it comes to guys. You have hardly been respected and treated with dignity and then on the other side you've had unfortunate feelings for someone. None of the awful treatment can ever be excused but the other stuff, it's all in the past."

"I know," Kurt mumbled quietly, "I just have no frame of reference." He felt himself recoil a little, self consciousness engulfing him.

"Well, you're doing just fine right now," Blaine whispered, dipping his head to catch Kurt's eyes with a smile, "you're not overwhelming me or freaking me out."

"You're different," Kurt said quietly.

"How am I so different?"

"You're..." Kurt began, feeling nervous to be so honest but found his confidence from somewhere and continued, "gentle and understanding."

Blaine sighed out, grinning slightly. "That's very kind of you to say."

"It's true," Kurt affirmed, not pouring his confidence into his words and slowly enjoying the honesty, "I don't feel scared around you."

"There's no need to be, ever." Kurt closed his eyes and lowered his head onto Blaine's shoulder. He just wanted to cuddle closer, to thank him, to never leave the moment and to cherish every second with Blaine. It was as if he was going to leave or be taken away or one day Kurt would wake up and realise that none of it was real. "I'm going to tell you something. You met Thomas at the Snow Ball?" Blaine murmured into Kurt's hair, unable to stop smiling, "Well when I came here, he was the only other gay student here. He'd had his fair share of troubles and he cared for me, looked out for me and helped me so much."

"So he was your you?" Kurt asked, amusement in his voice.

Blaine laughed genuinely. "I guess you could say that, kind of. He taught me that I didn't have to be frightened of who I was. I wasn't as confident as you Kurt, I wasn't as accepting of who I was then. My parents weren't thrilled about it all and I began to think that it wasn't healthy and that I was wrong somehow."

"You could never be wrong," Kurt whispered into Blaine's chest.

"That's sweet of you to say. I was a mess and Thomas was the best. He is so solid and strong that I felt myself leaning on him so much and turning to him. He was someone I looked up to and respected so vehemently. We spent so much time together and would go on trips, go to the movies, dine out and he asked me to the Snow Ball. Every single day, I became a little stronger and gradually he taught me to respect myself. We argued one night and I remember it being so trivial. I think I cried myself to sleep or something equally as tragic but it affected me so badly that I went to apologise and hugged the life out of him. When he left we vowed we'd always be friends and stay close. He's so important to me. I told you that you can see me, the real me, and it was the same with Tom, he just understood me. I suppose there are those special people that come along every so often and it just so happens that I found Tom here when I needed him most. I'm happy because he helped me realise I could be."

Kurt leaned back to look at Blaine, their noses almost touching. "He sounds special," he said, feeling his heart lighten by the second. So Thomas was Blaine's best friend besides Wes and David and Thomas was to Blaine what Blaine was becoming for Kurt.

"He is."

Kurt fell silent for a second, thinking. "Did you two ever... I mean, the way you talk about him..." He felt embarrassed for even asking such a question but felt so desperate to know the answer, to see if all Blaine saw him as was a student, a project... a friend.

"You know, one night I did question it. He's quite an affectionate guy and he'd held my hand. It felt nice and I found myself wondering. I quickly realised that we really were only destined to be friends and good ones. Neither of us felt that way for each other. He even told me yesterday that he thinks of me as a brother."

Kurt was sure his enormous sigh was as obvious and as plain as day.

"You're lucky to have him."

"I am."

They lay in silence for a long while, both at ease with each other, until they fell asleep once more.

-.-.-.-.

Blaine woke as the sun spiked his eyes. He felt his dry throat and pulsing temples but felt rested. The ache in his limbs had subsided leaving him weary. He glanced at the spot where Kurt had been and realised it was empty, the blankets still ruffled from where he'd been lying.

There was a moment of concern. Had he said something to cause Kurt to feel uncomfortable? Was it the serious nature of their conversation that had thrown him? Was it all just a little intense? It'd always been his problem, over-thinking, over-analysing and then acting or resisting too early or too late depending upon well reasoned decisions. It was all learned and conditioned into him from a family of deep thinkers, all alike in their serious manner and lack of free spirit. Blaine had learned from so many people about how to cut loose and relax (bringing to mind one of Wes' favourite quotes "chill the fuck out"- Blaine didn't swear much but it worked every time) and was beginning to get better at it but he was starting to wonder if he was possibly worrying too much about the situation he found himself in.

It felt indescribable to be so close to someone and to feel that connection he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before. Kurt was his polar opposite in so many respects and that was exactly the thing – he had no frame of reference either. He just had to simply try and do the best he could with what little knowledge he had. He was more experienced in the world of relationships but matters of the heart... the true and passionate tie to another person was something he knew very little of. He was as confused and as desperate to learn as any other and simply had an edge on Kurt. It wasn't much but he felt the responsibility. His father had always taught him to be the responsible one and to always work hard to carve out a name and position from himself. This notion was borne from years of military servicemen in his family, ending with his father – an accountant and a very good one at that. His mother, a writer, was the passionate one with the heart and drive and concentrated fierceness in her emotions. She always fought and believed and adored and clutched to her dreams.

A product of both, Blaine was sure he was doomed to be infinitely serious and determined throughout life with an underlying spark of emotion so inherent in his core that he could care and love strongly. It was his parent's fault. Those feelings conflicted inside so fiercely that there was no doubting that he was always doomed to be misconstrued at times or to walk the line and tip the balance in favour of either trait. He felt the need to think one step ahead of the entire friendship he'd developed with Kurt, always planning and considering instead of simply doing. Yes, he knew that Kurt's experiences required a companion who would be understanding and respectful and Blaine couldn't even consider being anything different; the only problem was that he ran the risk of scaring Kurt away, of coming across too serious. It was always a concern and one which he had been insecure about since teenage years hit.

He could only try and attempt to be a normal kid instead of one who acts entirely way too far beyond his years. His grandmother had always said he was an old soul in more ways than one but he'd never truly understood what she meant until Dalton. Most guys wanted to rebel and tease and fight and hustle ... Blaine had been a rabbit in headlights. His up-bringing was free from raucousness or triviality – things were always done for a reason and executed with precision and devotion. Meeting Wes and David, Thomas and his cohort and the legions of other guys had simply shown him that the guy who'd lived inside his bedroom and never shown the world was able to show himself.

He was proud now, comfortable in his own skin after years of relearning. He was happy and knew exactly what he enjoyed and what he didn't, never failing to be able to tell people his opinion. He'd reached lead in The Warbler's most important performances and was considered a well respected and liked student. It was all a little too perfect, he was aware of that, but it was everything he'd worked for, everything he'd striven to achieve to retain this life he knew. It was all he knew. Still, nothing was messy or uncertain, he still shared his ingrained need to succeed and plan and achieve but he was able to do so with an air of himself and his own character. Plus, he simply liked to kick back and wear a damn pair of jeans every now and then. Plus, you got away with a hell of a lot more when you were the best friend of the Principal's son and the Isla, the cook, had declared that if she ever had a son she'd wish for one similar. The perks were a definite plus.

He laughed to himself until he remembered that he still had no idea why Kurt wasn't still curled up beside him. As he checked the clock on his nightstand, his heart lurched in his chest. He had four hours before his train to Vermont. He swore loudly, relishing in his ability to do so as always, flung back the covers, ignored the reeling sensation as he stood, and marched into the shower.

-.-.-.-.-

"Pavi? You like it?" Kurt sang as he folded what felt like his hundredth pair of trousers. He had a very specific system of packing and he'd been at it for hours, keeping a running (and very one-sided) conversation with Pavarotti throughout.

The bird chirped back, bobbing up and down. Kurt smiled, admiring the second new glittery perch. The bird needed a bit of life in that drab cage, Kurt mused, it's about time he learned there was more to life and, if Kurt knew anything about that, he'd learned the same lesson at Dalton Academy.

Kurt felt himself glance around his room. He let himself breathe and think. The days had rolled into one, all melding together to form one huge and very vibrant learning curve. It hadn't all been 'moons and dunes and fairytales' ala Joni Mitchell, it'd been magical in parts, tough, emotional, awkward, surprising, nerve-wracking, irritating, hilarious, stifling ... the world flowed freely, each as conflicting as the next. Kurt wasn't sure which place was better for him – McKinley or Dalton. Both so different in nature, they provided very unique atmospheres with ethos' so polar that they could barely be compared. McKinley was where his heart lay fully. His time there had been all encapsulating and sparkling at best and dark, so very dark and lonely at its worst. However, Dalton did have a small list of offerings that McKinley did not have: no Karovsky, a challenge and Blaine.

_Blaine._

He'd changed Kurt's life in only a very short time. It was outstanding how he'd managed such a feat but it was miraculous and true. Kurt let his mind flood with the snapshots of glowing memories they'd shared and the new friendships he had with Wes and David and a few of the other guys too. He was still so new and hadn't even begun to make his stamp on Dalton but he knew he was capable. He'd have a solo with The Warbler's- it was only a matter of time. After Sectionals, they'd made firm plans and attended practises as scheduled but Kurt knew that after Christmas was his time to shine. He could do it.

There were downsides to the Blaine situation however. Kurt was sure Blaine saw him purely as a friend, regardless of how much he cared. Any potential embarrassing admission on Kurt's part could, no would, shatter their important friendship and break a fundamental part of Kurt's new life and break his heart entirely. The prospect wasn't an easy one to accept. The thought of Blaine muttering, awkwardly, that he did not feel anything for him was a nightmare and one which Kurt was sure his inexperienced heart could not deal with at all. The plus side, however, was that Blaine was not attached, Thomas was not some potential boy friend but simply a cherished old friend and they were so close now and so in sync that everything appeared to be aligned and waiting for something to shake it up.

The reality was that they were leaving each other, separating for a short while. Kurt was sure he was going to suffer and ache in places he didn't even think possible at walking away from Blaine but he knew it was inevitable. He also knew that the beginning of the new term would mean a new start for them and that he had to end things well and with enough meaning. He had to do something to change things. His mind flickered back to the day he'd sang Rose's Turn. He'd felt incredible, able to defy the odds and fight back against anyone and anything. He had the power within him to withstand years of being downtrodden and name called, therefore, he sure as hell had the power to hint to the sweetest guy he knew that he could barely function when in the same room as him through the strength of his feelings.

He sang to himself as he shimmied Pavi's curtain over his cage. The room looked a little emptier now but Kurt, much to his surprise, felt a hint of excitement. He'd kept in touch with most of his special McKinley friends and phoned his family most nights but he was actually going home again. He wondered if he'd feel different.

"New kid you weren't going to leave without saying goodbye were you?" Wes chimed from the doorway. Kurt turned to see him in hat, scarf and dark brown coat, smiling widely with red cheeks.

"Damn I hoped I'd slip away and spare you the agony of a painful goodbye Wesley," Kurt quipped. He liked Wes, he really did. Oddly, he could be a little more of himself with Wes. He could exercise his rapier wit without the concern of hurting the other boy's feelings and without any mind-mangling attraction getting in the way.

"Well, as tearful as it's going to be Hummel, I'm afraid it's inevitable."

Kurt mimed 'dammit' and smiled genuinely. "So you're off now I guess?"

"Yep, Dad's in the car no doubt cursing me for taking too long. I told him I'd be ten minutes but David kept me talking for forty. I think he's going to miss me. He gets a little protective come holiday time."

It was apparent from the look in Wes' eyes that he didn't like leaving Dalton much either. It had seemed strange to Kurt upon arrival there but now, well now he could see how the Dalton bubble was addictive and once inside, it felt safe and familiar. The camaraderie was nice, possibly except when Dalton exercised its more stuffy rules, and Kurt felt for those who maybe considered Dalton to be much more of a home than their own. He was beginning to feel that way but Burt would always signal home for Kurt.

"Well Wesley it seems it's about that time," Kurt cooed, standing by the door now with a smirk.

"It's been a pleasure new kid, happy holidays."

Much to Kurt's surprise, Wes reached out and hugged him lightly.

As Wes began to leave, a little softer now, Kurt found himself laughing. "Um Wes," he called, "you think when we get back, I could be promoted from new kid to erm..."

"Ok, it's plain 'kid' post-Christmas. I promise," Wes cut in, winking and waving before disappearing off down the corridor.

Kurt skipped back into his room feeling almost giddy. It felt nice to feel a connection to the hallowed halls of Dalton Academy at last.

As he piled his bags by the door, stacked neatly and packed to perfection, Kurt peeked at Pavarotti under his curtain. He was resting quietly, his feathers ruffled and his head leaning slightly on the bars of the cage. Kurt stroked a gentle finger down his pale lemon feathers and whispered, "Sleep well Tweetiepie, thank you for being there. I'll be back soon."

He checked his watch- he had approximately twenty five minutes to say goodbye to Blaine.

-.-.-.-.

"So you're alive," Wes shouted, walking into the senior commons where Blaine sat at the piano.

"I wondered when you'd appear," he retorted with a sarcastic grin, "you off then?"

"Dad's outside. Gotta be quick, so um no tongues ok?"

Blaine's eyes rolled as he laughed and gave Wes a tight hug. "Have a great Christmas and say hi to your parents for me."

Wes groaned. "No because it'll start them off with their 'oh isn't Blaine such a lovely young man' speech and frankly dude, it makes me look bad."

Blaine chuckled a little uncontrollably as Wes headed for the door. "Have fun in Vermont and um, don't leave it too long to go pay the new kid a visit. He's alone in his room." He winked and left.

Blaine sat for a second smiling, realising how much he'd miss his friends before his mind turned to Kurt – alone in his room. It wasn't going to be nice saying goodbye to him, not when he knew that Kurt was heading back home to haunted memories and potential bad incidents. In truth though, Blaine just knew he'd miss him. A lot.

-.-.-.-.

Kurt could hear the random piano notes from six doors up the long hallway. He smiled, knowing it had to be Blaine. As he reached the door, he watched as the other boy tapped skilfully at the keys, stringing together a haphazard tune that sounded almost poetic. He was normal Blaine, his hair much neater and dressed in smarter clothes – Kurt presumed his grandmother expected such.

He cleared his throat with a smile.

Blaine all but jumped off the stool. "God Kurt! Scared me."

"I'm sorry," Kurt replied lightly, leaving his sentence hanging, a little lost for words or where to begin.

"What time are you flying the nest new kid?" he asked with the hint of a cheeky grin.

"I'm walking straight out of here without so much as a goodbye if you call me that again," he snapped but he was smiling. In fact he was smiling so much he wasn't sure he could stop.

"Ok ok. So I'd say the mandatory 'have a happy holiday' but I guess it's too cliché right?"

"No," Kurt teased, "you can say it, we're not beyond niceties." Blaine chuckled.

"Well, Kurt," he emphasised, "Happy Holidays and have an awesome break."

Blaine stood up from his stool and walked towards Kurt, his heart now causing his brain to short circuit. It was ok when they were playful, it was easy and fun to joke around but this was a month without seeing each other... it seemed so serious.

"Thank you, and you too. I hope Vermont is suitably snowy," Kurt replied, his eyes now wider and expectant.

Kurt felt the nerves now. Something had to be said or done to drop the tone a little.

"Look, Kurt, I want you to know that if anything happens over the holidays and you, um, well, you need someone ... I know you have your family and friends back at McKinley but if you need anyone else then I'm only on the other end of a phone line and I have a car."

Kurt felt his heart sigh. He knew his eyes had fallen into dreamy mode and he didn't care one bit. "I have no idea what I would have done without you this semester."

He knew the words weren't enough but he didn't know how else to express his feelings in a more neutral way without jeopardising what existed between them.

"You're tough, you could have done it without me but... you're welcome," Blaine added with a tiny smile.

There was silence for a moment. Kurt felt himself gaze at his shoes and even noticed a small scuff mark. It was at this moment that Blaine sighed so hard it was audible and ran his hand through his hair.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked, genuinely unsure what it meant.

Blaine fixed his eyes forward and almost forgot to blink. He felt desperate for his brain to work and think of anything acceptable to say or do in the moment – something safe but meaningful.

"I'm just going to miss you," he mumbled, taking a much needed breath, "a lot."

Kurt wasn't prepared to keep any distance between them any longer so he curled his arms around Blaine's neck and hugged the life out of him. Blaine seemed to laugh with an 'oof' as he felt Kurt's weight hit him.

"I will miss you so much," Kurt whispered into Blaine's neck causing the other boy to noticeably shiver. As Kurt peeled himself away, his eyes showing a sign of sheepishness, he stayed close and left his hand on Blaine's shoulder.

"Ok we need to just say goodbye and leave because this is ridiculous," Blaine rushed out, his cheeks turning a little pink. Kurt caught it and felt himself startle in shock. Blaine was nervous?

Blaine wanted to kiss him. No other moment was more fitting for a goodbye kiss, just a small baby kiss would suffice, even on the cheek again, he'd done that before so he could do it again. He kept his eyes on Kurt and tried to wish him to leave because Blaine knew he was dangerously close to crossing a boundary that would redefine their relationship and potentially ruin it. He didn't.

Kurt realised he hadn't breathed out and felt himself tense, ache, swoon and a million and one other emotions all flooding through him, desperate to escape. He simply wanted to scream '_I'm going to miss you because I'm crazy about you and I want you to kiss me. I want __**you**__ to be my first kiss because you're amazing and perfect and handsome and caring and funny and talented and your hair... don't even get me started on your hair..._' but he didn't. Instead, he watched as Blaine's eyes flickered nervously, an uncharacteristic trait signalling that he was feeling something, and felt himself breathe deeply. He knew he only had to reach up and close the space between them but his heart was beating almost out of time with apprehension. He silenced it and felt the warmth of Blaine even from half a metre away soothe him and remind him that it was Blaine... nobody scary. He stepped closer and lifted his hand daintily, feeling it shake a little, to the side of Blaine's neck, his hair tickling it slightly. He smiled then, realising that Blaine's eyes weren't dancing anymore, they were solid and warm and the prettiest colour Kurt was sure he'd ever seen.

He never let his eyes falter. They spurred him on as he rested ever so lightly against Blaine's chest. He felt his fingers move of their own accord and stroke lines into the crook of Blaine's neck, his entire body trembling in the sweetest way. It was then that he pressed his lips faintly against Blaine's, his eyes falling closed.

It was like he was completed. The touch of another person so achingly close was like magic. He barely knew what to do but simply pressed a little harder and felt his fingers slide down from Blaine's neck to rest against the wool of his sweater. He felt his lips gradually lift and he stepped back, opening his eyes. His heart was beating in his ears, his palms so hot and skin on fire that he almost turned and ran. He watched, scared of Blaine's reaction, until he saw the corner of his mouth turn into a tiny smile. He was shocked and stunned, that was obviously, but he hadn't recoiled in horror. Kurt felt his hear soar and a desperate wish to say something witty and articulate to diffuse the tension but it was too necessary, too delicious, that he didn't. He just let the smallest and most modest of smiles paint his lips and glanced up demurely under his eyelashes.

Blaine breathed out for what felt like the first time in years, and struggled to remember what words were as he felt every single part of him that Kurt touched. He physically craved the feeling of Kurt's lips again.

"I, um..." Kurt began, shocking himself at his bravery but fully aware he was blushing deeply, "I will _really _miss you."

"Come with me to Vermont," Blaine rushed out, all too quickly and all too frantically because not only did he want that more than anything, the thought of not seeing Kurt for a month now felt like millennia. His brain fumbled with his own realisation and slowly slotted into place as it dawned upon him that his worries were potentially so unfounded- Kurt kissed him**. **_**Kurt**_ kissed _**him**_.

"Blaine-" Kurt begen, a crinkle in his forehead, "it's my first family Christmas. I don't think I can leave my dad. I'm so sorry." He panicked inside, worrying he'd just ruined the most perfectly charge and blissful moment of his life.

"Oh god Kurt, of course," Blaine replied, so quick that the words almost run into one another. He felt so un-glued and it was both terrifying and wonderful at once.

"I don't-" Kurt started again, his mind racing to find a decent reply.

"Come after Christmas. I'm not coming back here for New Year. My Grandmother has allowed me to keep the cottage for a few days." He realised as he spoke, the magnitude of the offer and the sheer volume of questions he was asking Kurt but none of seemed to matter. He simply wanted Kurt close.

Kurt felt himself laugh a little, his face alight with the most brilliant happiness. "I've never seen you struggle for words before."

Blaine smiled, a smidgen bashful and a whole lot amused. "Kurt, I mean you... you...". Blaine couldn't do it, he couldn't put into words what was happening or how he felt or even what had just happened.

"I'd love to come," Kurt answered, his stomach fluttering. Blaine nodded. An enormous grin spread on his face and still no words.

Kurt beamed back and bounced a little on the spot, suddenly high on life and euphoria. He almost gracefully bowed, nodding in Blaine's direction and, without speaking, walked out of the common room.

As he reached the end of the corridor out of sight, he stopped. He covered his smiling face with his hands and breathed slowly and methodically, regulating it, before laughing to himself. His cheeks hurt and he was even sure his eyes watered a little but he didn't care. He sighed out, releasing a lifetime of pent up feeling and all but ran to Pavarotti and his stack of cases to head back home.

_**So yes, I guess I put those people out of their misery a little. This is NOT their first proper kiss. I mean, when I wrote it, I don't see Blaine even really kissing back because the poor boy's too stunned, however, BELIEVE ME when I tell you that I am not chickening out here with a little kiss and leaving it there. There's so much more to come – this was just to clear that up incase people were a little disappointed by it being so tiny :P**_

_**I REALLY hope you liked it. Was a little worried about this chapter so please let me know what you thought :D xx**_


	17. Best Laid Plans

_**You are all just FAR too kind. Thank you to the new people who read it all in one go and WOW loads of you are quick readers ;) – thank you for taking the time to leave me a lovely message.  
Thank you for letting me know you weren't disappointed, I was a bit concerned you'd all think it was a cop out but it's NOT, I promise! :P**_

_**A massive thank you to those AGAIN who said they joined this site for this story. I mean, wow. It's REALLY a shock to hear that and I'm very flattered. I write only because I have ideas and I LOVE to write moments and emotions. That was a big aim of this story and for SO many of the comments to focus on THAT being the reason they keep coming back to read, well, that makes me very happy. I CANNOT believe it's been received so well.**_

_**To those concerned about Pavi – don't worry, our favourite Tweetiepie has a home for Christmas ;) haha!**_

_**This one is a little lighter and, again, different but it came out the way I wanted it to so I hope you like it! **_

"Kurt, Sweetheart!" Carole called, loud and clear over the lilting Christmas music coming from Burt's old record player. Kurt smiled hugely and placed down Pavi's cage and his suitcase gently just in time for her bone crushing hug.

"He's landed at last and he's apparently staying forever judging by the luggage," Burt teased with a happy smile. Kurt shrugged and winked, enjoying being around his dad after so long.

"Well, I like to be prepared and Christmas is a time for many outfit opportunities. I can't be left without options Dad."

Burt rolled his eyes knowingly and nodded. "Believe me, I'd have expected nothing less son."

Kurt let his eyes take in his dad's torn baseball cap, stone washed jeans and lumberjack shirt combo and immediately felt at home. As he made his way down into his room he frowned a little at the mess Finn had left. It was much better than Kurt had imagined. He'd envisaged a full scale jungle cat scathing brawl between them both if his 'brother from another mother' had broken or tarnished any of Kurt's expensive items. He sighed thankfully as he found his cherished Tiffany lamp still intact. It did feel a little weird being back in the current circumstances but as he plugged in his iPod stand and began to fill the music with decent music instead of Rainbow and Air Supply, which he was sure Finn had exhausted over the term, he felt his stamp being rightfully reinstated.

"Dude! You're home!" Finn called, slapping Kurt on the back as he suddenly appeared behind him. Kurt jumped a little but smiled regardless.

They spent time reacquainting themselves with the room, Finn being much more accommodating than Kurt had expected. He hadn't complained about the music, commenting that it reminded him of someone. Kurt knew he meant Rachel but didn't pry – Mercy would fill him in anyway.

He gently placed Pavarotti down on his desk and slid off the curtain. The little yellow bird hopped busily around his cage, moving towards the edges in an obvious attempt to take in his new circumstances. Kurt stroked a line down one of the bars. "This is your new temporary home. I hope you love it here as much as I do. Word of advice though tweetiepie, if Finn says its food there's a high chance it's not so be warned."

"So, what's Dalton like?" Finn called from the other side of the room.

Kurt turned to arranging his laptop and webcam. "It's great, I love it" he replied, not really knowing where to begin, "it's very different to McKinley and a little difficult to get used to but I'm not in constant fear of being slammed into the wall so therein lies the plus."

A shadow of anger passed through Finn's eyes. "But you're happy there though, right dude? You're not just sticking it out cos of Karovsky because you know we'd have your back if you wanted to come home."

Kurt nodded, grateful. "I know. Puck even emailed me with a detailed plan including surveillance and a particularly worrying outline of exactly how he'd euthanize Karovsky. I guess it says a lot but I found it pretty sweet."

Finn executed a trademark smirk, probably at the return of Kurt's wit. "Pity he's a douche when it comes to making out with any girl I love."

Kurt watched Finn slump on his bed. "Rachel?" he asked, his voice infused with concern. Kurt was shocked that it was actually genuine. He cared for Finn, he really did, and knew exactly how much he loved Rachel Berry. God bless him.

"She kissed him. I mean, I know I lied about Santana but we weren't together then and now..."

"She loves you, Finn," Kurt consoled, sitting by his 'brother' on the bed.

"Yea well, she's got a funny way of showing it." Kurt could see Finn knew and he could also see that this was what troubled him most. Rachel was ridiculous and difficult to stomach but one thing Kurt knew beyond no amount of doubt was that her feelings for Finn were cherished. She was a passionate hearted person and Kurt knew her well enough to know how lonely she felt on a day to day basis.

"You will work it out. I'm sure of it. Rachel's too stubborn and you're too soft," Kurt said forcefully, almost willing Finn to believe it. Finn didn't suit a sulk and especially not at Christmas. "Your mom said she was making brownies. Wanna go help me eat them before my dad does?"

Finn grinned. "Got yourself a deal." Kurt turned to walk up his stairs as Finn spoke again. "I'm glad you're home."

Kurt was touched and also a little surprised that he was too, in a way.

-.-.-.-.-.

Blaine was freezing. He snatched out his phone and punched in the numbers he knew off by heart.

"Oh you just miss me already don't you?" Wes sang into the mouth piece, causing Blaine to smile despite his current predicament.

"I feel like part of me is missing," Blaine deadpanned, his voice laced with sarcasm, "but on a serious note, I happen to be in a bit of a predicament."

Wes listened as Blaine explained his woes. The snow was bad – very bad. Vermont was not taking flights and there were no other transport connections running through the blizzard, leaving Blaine, his suitcases and his guitar somewhat stranded.

"Dude I'd have you over to stay if I was actually in my house but I'm on the road using the bluetooth, Kate decided it was meet the parents time. I'm going to be shot by her father. I can feel my impending demise imminent so it's lucky you called."

Blaine had to laugh. "The parents. Wow," he breathed out, still highly amused, "just don't mention that you and David sometimes share a bed or that you tried to drink yourself into a stupor in order to get your hands on Melinda with that tattoo at the Snow Ball, ok?"

"You think I want to be killed?" Wes spat, "seriously man, I'm channelling my inner Blaine Thornton right now. I plan on them falling in love with me. You manage it, why can't i?"

Blaine pulled a face, happy that Wes couldn't see him, and laughed. "Well, I can only wish you luck and hope you make it through the holidays."

Wes almost growled. "I need all of the luck I can get."

As they said their goodbyes, Wes apologising over and over for not being able to be there, Blaine leaned back in the uncomfortable metal seat in the airport and frowned as he watched all of the other holiday makers attempting to reorganise their entire holiday. He was fortunate enough that he was sure he could make it out to Vermont at some point and was sure to see his Grandmother and be able to celebrate at least a fraction of the holiday, however, the concern was where he was sleeping. He felt his American Express burn a hole in his pocket as he contemplated hauling up in a hotel until the runways opened.

After a twenty minute conversation at the information desk, it became apparent that the hotels were crammed full. He sighed roughly and despondently lugged his cases over to the Starbucks in the terminal and ordered the biggest Latte on the menu with whip.

He found a seat and leaned forward on his hand, propped up on his elbow. He contemplated being like Tom Hanks in that movie where he shaved in the wash room and lived in the offices upstairs- he was sure he could pull that off for a few days. He found himself laughing at how ridiculous he sounded as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

_**Did you get there ok? I'm currently eating homemade brownies. Skin going to pay but I thought I'd make you jealous. K x**_

Blaine gripped his phone a little harder and grinned ridiculously. He had spent the entire drive to the airport thinking about Kurt and the fact he'd kissed him and smiled and stroked tiny and spine tingling patterns against his neck with his fingers. It was so unexpected and Blaine was sure his head was still reeling a little from it. He had not enjoyed watching Kurt leave.

_**You are cruel, so so cruel. I'm at the airport a little stranded. Thinking of pulling a Tom Hanks and sleeping here. No routes to Vermont. While you eat your brownies think of me curled in a bathroom stall for warmth. B x**_

He laughed as he typed, knowing Kurt would find it funny but also completely confusing.

_**Who is this and what have you done with Blaine? You sleep in Egyptian Cotton, no way can you survive a night of slumming it. What's going on? I'm worried.**_

Blaine wasn't expecting that. He smiled regardless and quickly typed back, knowing if Kurt had expressed worry, that he meant it.

**No flights to VT. Stuck here till snow dies down. I'm fine. Mr American Express and I are going to buy out the gift store. I can bring you back a souvenir teddy bear. B x**

Kurt stared at his phone waiting for it to bleep. He was tucked into the corner of the couch as Burt and Finn argued over which movie to watch. Carole was humming rhythmically in the kitchen as she flicked through one of her cooking magazines.

Kurt found himself shaking his phone, wishing it'd go off and that Blaine would stop being so cryptic. As it beeped and Kurt read the message, he felt himself tense and want Blaine near. Teddy bear? Blaine was making light of the situation and completely avoiding the reality of freezing himself to death in one of the worst Winters to hit in years.

_**Which airport are you? I'll check news online. K x**_

No way was he checking online. No way was he leaving Blaine stranded like a kicked puppy in a Ralph Lauren Winter coat to curl up on a tiled floor and eat dried crackers for an unlimited and unknown amount of time.

"Dad?"

Finn had won the playful argument and was currently drumming his fingers to the opening credits of Transformers. Burt glanced up from rolling his eyes in Finn's directions.

"You alright kiddo?" Burt asked, realising his son looked a little startled.

"Can I ask you to keep an open mind?"

Burt looked confused. "What you getting at? If you're trying to get me to use that stuff on my face again then no, it tasted like candy and made me want to eat it. Nothing that smells that good should go on my face."

Kurt rolled his eyes impatiently. "No dad. My friend Blaine, you know from when we moved in, you said he was nice and looked rich."

"The one with the eyebrows?"

"Yes ok, him" Kurt sighed exasperatedly, "well he's stranded in Westerville at Port Columbus Airport and he has nowhere to stay because of the snow. He's alone and his parents are in another country. He can't get to his Grandmother's house in Vermont."

"Oh poor baby," Carole cooed, standing by the doorway, "what parent leaves their child at Christmastime?"

Kurt felt his stomach clench in a sense of desperation. "I know, it's like Home Alone isn't it?"

Finn snapped his head around, breaking his intense eye lock on Megan Fox. "Oh man awesome movie."

"Yes Finn. Yes it is," Kurt retorted, his words clipped and sarcastic, "so I was thinking, if it was ok with you, he might stay here until he can fly? He's very polite." Kurt could have added a multitude of adjectives to that list but kept it short and to the point.

Burt considered it for a second. "What do you think?" he asked Carole.

She kept her eyes on Kurt, lingering for a second with a knowing glance. "Well, I think there's always room for another at this time of year. The question is, how would he get here?"

She raised her eyebrows at Burt. "Oh I see," he mused, "I'm the mechanic, I own the truck so I have to go and rescue this kid."

Kurt smirked, feeling so much love for Carole and her inimitable control over the men in his life. Kurt clapped his hands together and felt his heart race at the prospect of Blaine staying in his own house and meeting his family and being close for Christmas.

"Well it looks like you do sweetie. I'll get a bed ready for him."

Kurt bounced in his seat with an enormous beaming smile before leaping from the couch to hug his father, then Carole and then disappearing down into his basement.

Carole pulled a face at Burt. "It seems this young man means a lot to Kurt," she thought out loud, smiling.

"He sleeps on the couch. I don't care if he's royalty. There are boundaries," he said firmly. Carole kissed him on the head, laughing a little and noticing the warmth in her husband's eyes.

-.-.-.-.-.

Blaine couldn't feel his toes. He'd watched the crowds dwindle gradually leaving the lost and miserable in their wake. A large family, clearly intending on making their way to the other half of their enormous clan, were all gathered together in a clump, leaning against bags on the floor and sharing coats. A young couple were snuggled together sharing a Starbucks coffee and Empire magazine. An older and distinguished gentleman sat with his briefcase on his lap, his scarf folded over his arm and a look of utter numbness on his face. Blaine liked to people watch and, upon feeling his fingers start to ache with the cold, began to focus more on it to get himself through the night.

Kurt hadn't messaged back since he'd sent the airport text so Blaine was sure he'd been swept up in some grand family tradition. He envisaged Kurt commanding the tree decorating entirely, frowning thinly when a bauble clashed or someone suggested using tinsel (too tacky). He could imagine trying to persuade his brother to watch "White Christmas" and try to appreciate Vera Ellen's non-existent waist or the tone of Bing Crosby's voice. Blaine found himself wishing he'd even experienced such frivolities in his own household instead of them always being imagined.

His mind was all full of happy thoughts and dreamed up make believe situations. He'd already spoken to Sylvie and explained his predicament. She had grown immediately worried and panicked, attempting to find a neighbour to drive her the approximate fourteen hour journey in sheet ice. He'd thought quickly and lied, explaining he had a room in a local motel with good breakfast. He'd assured her he was fine, said his goodbyes and promised to be out there as soon as possible. As he put his, now empty, mug down and glanced around again at the inhabitants of Terminal 5, he felt strangely attached to them. He could practically feel and share in their loneliness.

"If you weren't so pathetic, you'd almost look poetic."

Blaine turned rapidly. Kurt stood, sitting in his hip, a smirk teasing at the corner of his lips. He was dressed in dark slim jeans, Winter boots, a dark fitted (expensive looking) overcoat and a tailed patterned fur lined hat. Blaine was speechless. "Have I rendered you incoherent again?" Kurt asked playfully, reaching down to collect Blaine's guitar.

Blaine didn't move, simply keeping his eyes on Kurt's as they filled with gratitude and an overwhelming sense of affection. He could feel his heart beating throughout his entire body, warmer now.

"You have a talent for it," he said finally, his voice couched in amazement.

Kurt smiled, pleased with himself, and nudged at his shoulder. "Another to add to my extensive list," he teased coyly, feeling his heart skip. He couldn't deal with the look in Blaine's eyes and the way he seemed to be slightly unable to grasp reality. It was unmistakeably precious and Kurt was sure that he'd done the right thing. If anything, Blaine was close again and that felt so important.

_**NOTES: I really loved writing this one as it was so different and reminded me a little of a romcom. Don't worry, I tried hard to avoid the hideously chessy edge and went with classically cute! Hope it worked.**_

_**I know it's shorter but I kept it that way for a reason. For those who asked me for a Hummel-Hudson experience with Blaine thrown in... I always intended it. I HOPE I managed to get Carole, Finn and Burt even a TINY bit correct. Please let me know if there's anything off with it. We'll get Kurt/Blaine alone at some point but I never intended on having them separated for too long. Where'd be the fun in that? :D**_


	18. Introductions

_**I feel like I begin every chapter with WOW but seriously, WOW. I'm fast approaching 300 reviews and new people are reading everyday and leaving THE sweetest messages. I'm so grateful. Above all, I'm just thrilled you actually ENJOY it. I honestly, never thought people would keep reading :D**_

_**I'm pleased the last Chapter was received well regardless of the change of pace – phewf! I had to add in the Hudmels because, well, how can you resist? I find Finn hardest to write because he's so specific and an iconic Glee character so THANK YOU to those who said they thought he was written OK. I will still try hard with him : )**_

_**I adore Burt (I'm sure I've mentioned that before) and I LOVED LOVED LOVED writing him in this chapter. The way the writers approach his relationship with Kurt has always been so special so I can't even hope to achieve a scene as touching as that but I try to simply keep them in character.**_

_**I am able to write a Chapter every day/other day as I'm off for Christmas. I'm a trainee barrister so usually my days are CRAMMED full and EXTREMELY busy but I always find time for my escapisms – Musical Theatre, Knitting, Vintage Shopping, Writing and watching movies. That's pretty much what my weeks have been since breaking up (plus seeing friends) so for those that asked how I can get a Chapter out reasonably quickly... there's your answer. Also, if I sit down and write it, it honestly does NOT take me too long. Plus, I write on my Blackberry on the train ;)**_

_**Thank you all so much again and honestly, I really do take into account your reviews so ANY con-crit is really appreciated. Obviously the "awwwwwwwwwwwww"s are also ridiculously appreciated. Also, I worry for a few of you ... the amount of reviews I get about not being able to breathe and about your faulty hearts... it's a concern :P**_

_**Ooo one last thing. People keep asking if I'm British. Yes, I am. I try SO hard to keep up the Americanisms. You have NO idea how many times I type "jumper" instead of "sweater" and have to change it ;) Also, Google was my friend for Vermont/Airports/Travel times! I have a LOVELY friend in the US (the one who introduced me to Darren a year and a half ago) who helps me out so THANKS to Annie : )**_

_**Ok, shutting up now. I really hope you like this one. A few moments in this had me smiling ridiculously as the images were SO clear to me and SO painfully cute in my mind. ENJOY...**_

Kurt was sure he was dreaming. It was all a little odd having two halves of his life spectacularly collide in one sudden move. He watched as the golden lights scattered past the window as they drove in the dark, the two hour journey back to Lima. Kurt sat in the back of their truck with Blaine, the air thick and a touch on the tense side. He glanced over just as Blaine did, the silence dominating, but Blaine offered a small smile, his eyes twinkling from the glare of the headlights of passing cars. Kurt breathed in, slow and deep, relishing in the rush of emotion he felt.

"So Blaine, Kurt tells me your parents are travelling this Christmas," Burt offered from the front of the cab. He'd been silent so far. Kurt smiled, secretly so grateful for his father's attempt to make conversation. It was painfully obvious it was strained.

Blaine didn't seem to realise, exercising his very natural charm and ability to remain cool in any circumstance. "Yes Sir, my mother is a writer and travels a lot with her work. She always said that Winter evokes more meaning and sentiment and decided, this year, to vacation in Whistler, Canada instead of spending the holiday at home. Dad always travels with her. Usually I stay at Dalton but ... it's not the most festive environment once the boarders have all left."

Kurt glanced out of the corner of his eye. Blaine didn't seem too affected by what he was saying but Kurt could see his tiny shift in mood, a shadow of disappointment.

"I see," Burt said in a voice that Kurt knew was a little softer, even for his dad, "so you were travelling to Vermont?"

"Yes. My Grandmother Sylvia lives there. I used to stay there a lot when I was younger over the holidays and she is one of my favourite people in the world."

"Well, we will try to get you a flight out as soon as this snow clears."

Kurt wanted to hug his father so badly for the kind way he spoke but instead chose to smile at Blaine again, warm and cheerful, with an aim to make Blaine feel at home as possible. It was obvious the other boy was on his best behaviour, staying on the other side of the car and keeping a safe distance from Kurt at all times. He hadn't even spoken that much to Kurt since they'd met up with Burt, instead choosing to talk to Kurt's father and offer constant and almost regular expressions of gratitude.

"I am so grateful for all of your help Mr Hummel. I can't quite believe you drove all of this way."

The wry laugh Burt let out made Kurt sure there was a quip to follow. "Once my son has an idea, I've learned two things. It's usually for a good reason and to never say no."

Blaine laughed, his eyes knowingly planting their gaze on Kurt's who ducked his head, his trapper hat tails falling. He smirked. It was the first time Blaine had come close to touching him as he reached over and tugged the thin tassels hanging down by Kurt's neck. It was both playful and heartfelt causing Kurt to blush and his heart to speed up. He was infinitely grateful for the darkness.

-.-.-.-.-.

As they pulled up the drive, Kurt glanced over to Blaine, his hand immediately covering his heart as he realised Blaine had fallen asleep. It was achingly endearing. Kurt watched as Burt carried the bags into their hallway and took it as his chance to wake Blaine up without the panic of his father watching.

"Blaine? Hey Blaine, wake up, we're here," Kurt whispered, his hand unsure if to move. He did reach out and touch, his finger brushing Blaine's arm through his coat. The other boy mumbled something and nuzzled sideways into the seat. Kurt suppressed a laugh. "Blaine. Blaine. Blaine. Blaine. Blaine," he repeated jokingly. Blaine eventually opened his eyes and cringed.

"I fell asleep," he yawned, frowning in regret and rubbing his eyes roughly.

"You're perceptive," Kurt retorted with a cheeky grin, "you planning on sleeping in the car or are you coming in? I promise Finn won't bite, I'll stop him before he reaches you and my father's gun is locked away in the basement, I think."

Kurt burst into giggles at Blaine's face. "I'm sleeping in the car," Blaine replied, startled.

"Come on," Kurt urged with amusement, his hand moving without thought to rest lightly on Blaine's arm. He jumped a little, startled at his sudden ability to be easier in Blaine's company. He was on his own territory and excited to be able to take care of Blaine and be there for him. It felt cosy and terrifying all at once but a thread of something solid spread through him. It was as if everything he wanted was in one place, everyone he lov...

"Hey?" Blaine called as Kurt turned his back to climb out of the car, his hand reaching out to grab Kurt's scarf tail. Kurt flipped to face him, his eyes wide and alert and glancing down a fraction at the touch. They were able to do that now and it was ok.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for this," Blaine spoke softly, "it's... you're... just thank you."

Kurt felt himself blanketed in warmth. He smiled, his skin awash with happiness. "No need to say thank you. New rule. Ok?"

Blaine closed his eyes, laughing a little at the use of his own words. Kurt was different; he was still himself and still as pure and open as he ever was but there was an air of confidence since their moment in the common room. As he looked up and back into Kurt's eyes, he knew that something had unequivocally changed in his life- for the better.

-.-.-.-.-

Kurt watched as Carole sweetly hugged Blaine followed by Finn who slapped him on the back and exclaiming "Good to meet you Bro!". Kurt almost laughed wondering how many times Blaine had been called 'bro'.

"Thank you so much for having me here. I'm honestly eternally grateful. Port Columbus wasn't the most hospitable airport."

Blaine was ever the gentleman, much to Carole's surprise. Kurt stifled another grin as he watched his family's reaction to such politeness. Blaine, the picture of good grooming and a respectable upbringing looked positively comical beside Burt in his oil smeared jeans. Kurt felt a desperate need to hug them both.

"Well, Blaine, we're glad to have you," Carole chimed up to break the slight silence, "I've set up a bed for you on the couch if that's ok with you and we'll work the rest out tomorrow."

Blaine ducked his head, bowing a little. "That's perfect, thank you. I don't want to be a burden." Kurt coughed before he knew what he was doing. As Blaine turned to look at him, Kurt simply raised his eyebrows in accusation. If Kurt couldn't use that word then there was no damn way Blaine got to. The other boy smiled knowingly and shook his head, obviously realising he was over doing it.

"Nobody's a burden. We're glad to have you. Kurt mentions you so often when he calls, you'd think you were part of the family already sweetheart."

Blaine felt Kurt's blush without looking and could hardly stop his own. Kurt watched as Finn smirked to himself. It was all a little awkward.

"Ok then," Kurt blurted out, attempting to move the conversation into clearer waters, "I'll take Blaine down and show him where everything is. That ok?"

"Yes but there's a bed on the couch. Remember," Burt warned with a firm glance at Kurt.

Kurt all but pushed Blaine down the stairs and into his room. The room felt a little crowded and Kurt simply wanted Blaine to himself, to reconfigure their relationship and simply talk.

"Well, he seems like a lovely young man," Carole cooed, sidling up to her husband, her arm threading through his.

"Lovely young man or not, he sleeps on the couch."

Carole laughed tunefully. "Darlin', Kurt's not stupid, he knows the rules but I have to say, that boy definitely makes Kurt happy, he has a glow about him."

Burt groaned outwardly but inwardly registered every single nuance of change in his son. He'd smiled wider, his eyes lit up, his stance grew taller and more confident and above all else, he could see the flush on his son's cheeks. He wasn't blind and, in a way, it comforted him to know Kurt was happy. Just as long as the kid respected the ground rules.

-.-.-.-.

Kurt was grateful for Finn leaving them to it as he watched Blaine duck into the basement.

"Oh."

"You like it?" Kurt asked, his stomach tensing with nerves. No other guy had been in his room before, with the exception of Finn, and it was strangely petrifying. Kurt felt himself view the room with a stranger's eyes and panicked, worrying in case Blaine thought it all a little over the top. Nobody else had really commented on it before, not even the girls, and Kurt wasn't so sure what to do so he simply watched Blaine's face.

"Did you do this yourself?" the other boy asked, shrugging off his coat and folding it carefully over his arm. Kurt felt his eyes scan the way Blaine looked in his dark woollen cardigan, shirt and fitted jeans. Seeing that image standing in the centre of his room made his skin hot and feeling he wasn't sure Burt would appreciate, swim deliciously inside. Blaine was sitting on his bed now, running his fingers along Kurt's duvet and glancing at the art hung from the pale walls. Kurt could barely move, knowing that if he did he wouldn't be able to stop himself from crawling on top of Blaine and pouring every ounce of the passion he felt into a kiss. He could just see Finn's face now.

It was disconcerting, feeling so strongly about, simply, a boy in his room but it wasn't any boy. Kurt felt the nerves take hold, unyielding, and accepted them. Every step was new and every feeling was so deep and shocking that it almost knocked him off his feet.

Kurt suddenly remembered he'd been asked a question. Walking slowly over to his desk, not even sure why he was moving and how his feet found the confidence to walk, he spoke.

"Um, yes. All my handiwork. Do you like it?" he asked again, desperate to hear Blaine's thoughts. He'd become difficult to read. At Dalton, it seemed easier but sitting in amongst his family and entire life, Kurt could barely function to de-code emotions anymore. He was focusing entirely on breathing, speaking and intensely controlling himself around Blaine.

The other boy glanced up, incredulous. "Kurt it's incredible."

It was as if he'd been deflated. The pressure drained from him at those words, suddenly letting himself feel relieved and proud.

"Nobody really comes in here," Kurt explained, leaning against his desk gently, his eyes flickering with nerves, "I never really know how people will react."

Blaine was speechless if he was honest. It was beautiful and so inherently Kurt that it felt like a cocoon. He was surrounded by everything that made Kurt who he was. It was clean and bright, pure and flawless but the white wash colour was so innocent yet bold. The whole room spoke to him in a way he was sure was so unintended.

"So that's another talent we can add to your ever growing list?" Blaine asked with a soft smile, fully aware of Kurt's anxiousness.

He watched Kurt smile, his shoulders square slightly. "Oh believe me, you haven't seen anything yet."

Kurt's brain celebrated, his body thawing and shivering with pleasure. Blaine liked his room. Blaine thought he was talented. Blaine was sitting on his bed. Blaine looked edible. Blaine. Blaine. Blaine.

"So, you've got me here and rescued me," Blaine began, a glint in his eye, "now what?"

Kurt's felt that ache again, his heart tensing wonderfully. He took a breath, channelling his spirit. "Well, you always get to be the white knight, I thought I'd try my hand at it."

Blaine laughed, all breathy and cute, making Kurt shudder with the complete lack of hold on his own self control. He couldn't stand it any longer, staying on the other side of the room, so he glided to Blaine's side, settling himself on the bed.

Blaine felt it. Something was different now. It wasn't just head reeling and sweet and adorable now. Something was firmer, more tense but making his feelings even stronger. He was looking at Kurt now, really seeing him and watching every movement of his hips, his eyelashes, his hands. It was mesmerising and so hot he wasn't sure he could deal with it all at once.

"You're good," Blaine murmured, turning slightly, his eyes unable to move from Kurt's lips. The trapper hat was still there and so was Kurt's coat. It was a barrier and Blaine wanted it removed so badly. He wanted Kurt near, close, tight against him. It was as if a switch had been flicked since Kurt had kissed him. The complication wasn't there anymore and his heart and mind could focus on other things... like the way Kurt's lips pouted slightly and seemed the softest Blaine had ever seen.

"I know," Kurt whispered, his hand lazily finding his hat and pulling it off slowly. He immediately straightened out his hair with a flurry of his hands. He couldn't take his eyes off Blaine for a second.

"It's a family tradition to go to the Christmas Market tomorrow. Dad and I go every year. I keep him away from the crepe stand, he steers me away from the shiny things and we both drink hot chocolate. It's always a nice day but this year it's Carole and Finn's turn to come along. Will you come?" Kurt asked, realising just how close he was to Blaine and how easy it would be to close the gap.

Blaine smiled wide. "It sounds wonderful but just as long as I get to let you loose on the shiny things. I'd love to witness that."

Kurt laughed, his eyes fluttering to his fingers as they unbuttoned his coat. He had to look away, there was no way he could be trusted to keep his eyes on Blaine's for too long at a time.

Blaine felt something teasing inside. Hearing of cute family traditions and the way Kurt spoke about his father felt alien. He was jealous but far too enamoured with the idea of sharing that kind of day with someone, with Kurt, to let the realisation of his own family's lack of such aspects get him down. The image of Kurt sliding his coat off his shoulders to reveal a tight and very deep green and red button up shirt was far too distracting anyway,

"Boys!" Carole called, already appearing at the top of the stairs, causing Kurt to almost jump a mile in the air.

He felt his face turn a fierce red at the fact he and Blaine were inches apart and sitting on his bed.

"Carole! Um, I was just showing Blaine-"

She smirked, nodding. "Yes sweetheart of course. Your father wondered if you'd like to come up and we could watch a movie together. I could make Blaine some food, that's of course if you're hungry honey?"

Blaine stood up immediately, smoothing down his shirt. "That's very kind of you, thank you."

Kurt could feel his palms sweating and eyes still blown wide. He could hardly quieten the panic racing through his veins. It was new. He felt like he'd been caught stealing or something equally awful.

As Blaine walked past Carole up the stairs, Kurt tried to scream at his brain to cool of his face. He had to get a grip. He tiptoed across the room, reaching Carole and attempted to pass her without a glance. He jumped as she touched his arm with humoured eyes and a deliberate smirk.

"He's extremely handsome," she whispered, stroking his shoulder. Kurt was sure the noise he made was entirely incoherent and ridiculous but he nodded and turned a deeper red, much to Carole's amusement. "Just don't let your father catch you. I think he still owns that gun." Kurt's blood turned cold, his eyes alarmed. Carole simply laughed, shaking her head. "Come on sweetheart, lets get that boy fed."

_**NOTE: I know this one was a littler shorter. It's because the next is a LOT longer and filled with so much. I'm sorry for the extra delay in posting. I had a BUSY day full of seeing friends, shopping and my Christmas Ball. NO where near as swoon worthy as the Snow Ball but fun regardless ;)  
I hope you enjoyed it :D**_


	19. Wake Up

_**Over 300 reviews. YOU GUYS... *sigh* You're all so lovely. I'm so sorry this took a little while to post and I broke my (almost) daily posting. I knew exactly what I was writing but I have been pretty busy and also didn't really feel in the right mood to write it. I knew if I wasn't in the right mood that it wouldn't come out the way it should so I can only apologise for the delay.**_

_**Before I launch into the instalment, I wanted to recommend a fic to you all. You'll have all read Dalton so it's not even necessary for me to mention it ;) The thing I wanted to talk about was the BRILLIANCE of Dalton and the world it's created. I tweeted (randomly) Telly who plays Wes (I loved him from when he played Angel in Rent) saying The Warblers really should have a spin off. He tweeted back something adorable and excited... THEN the fics started and they MADE MY LIFE :P**_

_**I read law books for a living so reading infraredpheaton's SPAH! Series was my escape for a bit. If you HAVE NOT read it then head over to the daltonacademy LJ and READ. RIGHT NOW. I'm seriously in love with her OCs that I was even rooting for them. It's LAUGH OUT LOUD incredible and I fell head over heels for her Wes and David. It's so original and inspired. I can't do it justice in words, I just wanted to recommend it because if you haven't read it, you're missing out. BIG TIME :D**_

_**Again, THANK YOU for your messages. To those who followed old stuff I did (hiiii there!). I am genuinely so unbelievably shocked by the response and kindness. I only hope I can keep going and wrap up the story well in the end. Don't worry ... plenty to come yet.**_

_**This one is much longer than the last and is filled with all sorts. Took me a while to write but I loved writing it. I really hope you enjoy : )**_

_**PS: Thanks to paintpurple for pointing out an awful mistake in Chapter 18 – "anxiousness" instead of "anxiety" – that's what 4 hours of civil litigation does to you :P Sorry folks!**_

_**Also a special little thank you to madeline1410, Joanna and JP-Wings – your messages were so unbelievably sweet so THANK YOU : D**_

Kurt barely remembered going to sleep. He was sure he must have drifted off mid way through whichever movie they'd chosen. His murky memory recalled Finn asking Blaine a string of awkward questions and Carole, every ten minutes, suggesting Blaine eat or drink something. That was it. He must have fallen asleep on the couch. He'd sat beside Blaine but had been very careful to stay leaning against the arm of the chair – distance was important when Burt sat a metre away.

Kurt pulled himself out of bed, making a face as Finn snored and lashed out his arm. Kurt shook his head with a roll of his eyes – Finn was everything a big brother should be, he mused, entirely unaware of how he even found him attractive all of those months back.

He straightened his hair and padded upstairs into the kitchen, avoiding the lounge where Blaine would no doubt be sleeping. Burt was already up and fully dressed.

"Hey dad," Kurt mumbled through his sleepy state, "are you the first awake?"

Burt smiled, nodding his reply. "I didn't sleep much."

The orange juice was out so Kurt sighed, grabbed a glass of milk and joined his father at the table. "So, what time are we leaving for the market?"

Kurt could sense something wasn't right. Burt usually teased and joked as he drank his coffee, he didn't answer so simply and was never so quiet.

"Look Kurt, I need to talk to you... about this boy."

Kurt felt a little queasy. They hadn't had this conversation yet and Kurt wasn't even sure what he'd say. It wasn't as if things were written in stone or confessed. He felt himself tense. He'd been so careful to keep a distance from Blaine and to avoid showing any signs of their feelings.

"What about him?"

"For a start," Burt began, leaning forward with his mug in hand, "are you two...I mean are you both... are you an item?"

Kurt spat out a nervous laugh, swallowing his milk awkwardly. "No Dad we're not."

"Ok, but you like him?" Burt asked, choosing his words carefully.

Kurt stared at his milk. What could he say? He never lied to his father and never wished to. "Dad..."

"Look, Kurt, he's a good kid, I can see that. This isn't about me giving you the third degree. This is me wanting to be honest with my son."

Kurt nodded slowly, his eyes wide. "Yes I like him."

Burt let himself take it in and leaned back in his chair. "He treat you well?"

Kurt had to chuckle. Burt seemed to frown at this, unsure as to why he was being laughed at. "He's the best. Honestly Dad he's so kind and considerate. He's helped me more than I can even put into words."

Kurt realised he'd become animated as he talked about Blaine, his hands moving and face springing into action. It was easy to slip into. He had no problem gushing about Blaine and how wonderful he'd been since the transfer – it was easy telling the truth.

"He the one who sent you those messages when you were still at McKinley?"

"Yes. He even came to visit when I was upset."

Burt took a sip of his coffee. Kurt could see the wrinkles in his father's forehead deepen in obvious thought. It was disconcerting, waiting for Burt to speak and worrying that he'd object to something or say that Blaine couldn't stay.

"He make you happy?" Burt asked, taking a deep breath as he spoke. Kurt went to reply in the affirmative but was interrupted by a huge smile taking over his face. Kurt bit his lip. There wasn't even a need to answer out loud.

It was then that Burt nodded his head, pouring the rest of his, now cold, coffee down the sink. He snaked his hand inside of the cookie jar and pulled out three. Kurt went to protest but thought again – it really was not the time.

"You'd better go wake him up then. I told Carole we'd be leaving in just over an hour," Burt eventually spoke with a trace of a smile on his face. It was awkward and somewhat clouded by mixed feelings but it was a sign of happiness and of acceptance.

Kurt beamed back and before leaving the room, leaned up to kiss his dad's cheek as he passed.

As Kurt crept into the lounge, he felt his skin prickle. It was a reaction he should have been used to as it happened every time he came in a short radius to Blaine but it never seemed to dampen. He glanced down to see the other boy's curls escaping again, his head pressed deep into the pillow and one of Carole's old multi-coloured knitted blankets bunched up by his neck. It was one of those mental photograph moments.

Kurt laughed to himself, realising it was becoming a habit to wake up Blaine Thornton. Just as he was about to speak, Blaine seemed to pre-empt any action, rolling over to face him and squinting into a smile.

"Morning," he said, his voice low, breaking a little. Kurt considered it to be insanely sexy.

He knelt down on the carpet by the couch and smiled. "Hi. You sleep ok?"

Blaine slid his arms out of the mountain of blankets and pulled himself up to a sitting position. Kurt's eyes never left his arms. It was like he was learning every heavenly aspect of Blaine for the first time because he was allowed to.

"Amazing, thanks. Carole's so wonderful. She made me actual cocoa before I went to sleep. I haven't drank cocoa since I wore Spiderman pajamas."

Kurt giggled, settling down further into the carpet. "I'm not even going to ask, in fact, I'm going to forget you ever said that." He snapped his words but smiled to show he was joking.

"Ouch, razor sharp at this time in the morning," Blaine grinned back, narrowing his eyes playfully, "you can't have always been so cutting edge, you must have worn or done something I can use to mock you with."

Burt chose that moment to pass through the room to reach the stairs. "You'll struggle," he added, "Kurt asked to wear a bow tie to his sixth birthday party and requested a pair of sensible heels for his seventh. You've got nothing kiddo." Burt spoke to Blaine only, his eyes holding a base firmness but glinting with humour. As he disappeared, Kurt was sure he'd never loved his father more.

Blaine seemed to breathe out. "He likes you," Kurt stated with a satisfied grin.

"I thought I'd wake up to him polishing that gun when you fell asleep on me last night."

Kurt's hand flew to his mouth. "What! I did what?"

"You fell asleep with your head on my shoulder," Blaine laughed out, "I had to stop myself from moving because you were on the verge of doing your plastering thing and I could all but see your dad working out ways to rearrange my face with his fist."

Kurt let his head fall into his hands with a groan. "I am sooooo sorry," he breathed out, his words hitting his fingertips, "I obviously had no idea what I was doing."

"It was pretty cute though," Blaine muttered quietly with a glance sideways at Kurt, "you linked my arm like people do in old movies. I thought Carole was about to melt into a puddle."

Kurt didn't remove his hands, groaning further into his lap. "Oh god."

Blaine watched as Kurt curled into a ball. It'd been more than cute, it had felt precious, even through the abject terror of being killed with whatever size shotgun was loitering in some cupboard. Kurt had instinctively reached out in his sleep and that was exactly what Blaine was sure he would never get used to – someone who wanted to do that and who instigated affection as he always found himself doing. He craved closeness and that profound ache to touch another person to show how you felt and had never considered that someone else may do the same. He'd learned to expect to have to seek out such warmth.

"Anyway, your dad seems cool with it so it's alright. He's a good guy. I like him."

Kurt peeked through his fingers. "Even though you feared for your life?" he asked, his voice whining with embarrassment.

"Yes."

Kurt sighed heavily, shaking his head loose of the minor stress panic. "What a morning," he complained, leaning subconsciously on the couch with his elbows, drawing the pair closer. Blaine watched as Kurt's eyes fell on his again, glowing a mixture of golds, blues and greens. As mesmerising as they were, he couldn't help feeling his fingers twitch in desperate need to stroke a line down Kurt's cheek just to see what it felt like – to see if it was as soft as it looked.

Kurt glanced up at Blaine's hair. "Will you leave it like that for today?" he asked, motioning a twirling shape with his fingers, "it suits you so much." As Blaine glanced up at the curly fronds just peeking over his hairline, Kurt reached and stroked his fingers tenderly through the front of them; his eyes wilted dreamily and as his head tipped slightly to the side contentedly. He was almost distracted with the action, fully intent upon what he was doing. Blaine shuffled happily under the touch, his eyes momentarily closing.

"As long as I can request one thing from you in return too?" Blaine asked, his eyes still closed. He nestled a fraction closer on the couch making them now only inches away. They both seemed to breathe in instinctively.

Kurt felt his skin balm with warmth as he withdrew his hand softly. "Your wish is my command," he replied, so sure it'd be something humorous and flippant.

Blaine's eyes changed in an instant. They grew deeper and more eager with a hint of a spark showing their complete honesty. Kurt felt himself lost in them, unable to deny Blaine anything. He blinked out of his temporary daze and cocked his head to the side as Blaine smiled.

"Can I ask for it later?" he smiled, all lopsided and dashing. There was no way Kurt was going to refuse so he nodded, his tummy swirling excitedly, pondering the possibilities.

-.-.-.-.-.

Kurt wanted to look good and nothing seemed right. He'd thrown more clothes over his room that even Finn had groaned in disagreement before throwing them back.

"Kurt just wear something, anything, why is it so hard?" he whined, kicking a thin veiled scarf off his foot where it'd landed as he lay on his bed.

Kurt snapped his eyes on his brother with a glare. "Just because you throw on whatever lovely items," he gestured with a sarcastic purse of his lips, "you find on the floor does not mean I have to do the same. I happen to want to look decent today and by decent I don't mean normal. It's Christmas and I want to make an effort."

Finn scoffed. "Christmas. Yea right."

Kurt switched his glare again, his preened eyebrows raised in accusation. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

It was all Finn could do to stifle a laugh. "You want to look good to impress out little house gues upstairs dude, don't lie."

Kurt rolled his eyes and whipped his head away, not deigning himself to rise to Finn's mockery even though his stomach fluttered as Blaine was mentioned. Finn was onto him.

Blaine chose that moment to step down into the basement hesitantly. "I'm not interrupting anything am I?" he asked. Kurt felt himself curse Finn inwardly for just being in the room as Kurt was restricted in viewing Blaine when he was dishevelled – Kurt's favourite 'Blaine'. As handsome as put together Blaine was and as dashing as he looked in his dapper attire, he oozed sex appeal just being relaxed and casual.

"No, of course not, come in," Kurt reassured him with a wave of his hand. Finn turned and smiled to appease Kurt and welcome Blaine.

"Dude, I'd stay away. Kurt's in one of his moods."

Blaine laughed, leaning against the desk. "Which one?" he asked, smiling sideways.

Kurt could feel himself blush. He gathered an armful of clothes and pushed them into his closet with an 'oof'. It was one thing for Finn to see him all flailing arms and mid-tantrum, but for Blaine to see him so unkempt... well, it wasn't a good idea. Kurt was sure he'd run a mile.

"I can't choose what to wear and nothing seems right," Kurt mumbled dismissively, "but it's fine. I think I've settled on something."

Blaine took this opportunity to wander to Kurt's side. Finn coughed playfully behind his magazine that he'd picked up cleverly – he could spy over it.

"Kurt you have more clothes than I have ever owned. I'm sure there's something you can throw together."

Finn squeaked as he felt himself await Kurt's reply. "Throw?" Kurt blurted out, "Blaine, one does not throw an outfit together. That, especially on me, would be unwise. I am not leaving this house unless I am happy with what I'm wearing."

Blaine frowned. He'd never placed a great deal of weight on clothes. His mother was a plain and classical dresser, always going for her trademark pencil skirt with delicate blouses and plain jewellery. His father, a man of the suit, was forever well turned out and starched. Blaine had followed naturally in their footsteps. He'd experimented on Dalton weekends with clothes as much as possible and felt he'd established an easy set of outfits that he felt 'himself' in, however, Kurt had it down. He was extremely fashionable and striking at every turn, regardless of his mood. Blaine always felt comfortable and at home in something more refined and smart. He felt his confidence rise when he flattened his hair and pulled on a shirt or blazer because he wouldn't stand out too much and would certainly not be judged for what he wore. A lifetime of being taunted at his old school taught him that lesson. He felt his eyes flicker over Kurt's wardrobe contents. The patterns and textures were delightfully interesting and stunningly arranged by colour. Kurt had a leather jacket next to a Pavarotti yellow thick knit cardigan and a pair of purple and black striped bondage pants (Blaine liked those especially) tucked alongside a pair of moss green skinny jeans. Blaine wanted, very much, to see Kurt in everything.

One thing that was apparent and almost troubling to Blaine was Kurt's reluctance to appear anything but pristine. It was admirable and Kurt pulled it off with grace and ease but he wished Kurt could feel comfortable as himself, looking mussed and a bit of a mess. Kurt was the only person he'd ever met who preened himself before breakfast.

"Kurt," Blaine stated warmly with a slow hand over the other boy's shoulders, "you'll look great in whatever you wear."

Kurt felt every point of contact that Blaine made with his skin and realised it was the first time Blaine had tugged him to his side. He was struck with how warm and appealingly snug he felt. It was icy cold as he was released. Kurt barely contained a small whine in protest. They looked at each other, both with small keen smiles, until Kurt rolled his eyes in mild flirt and sighed.

"Ok. Well, help me. Red knit or blue cashmere?" he hummed, throwing Blaine his options.

As Blaine caught them, he saw Finn gesturing to the left, obviously helping the decision with a sliver of inside knowledge. Kurt sat in his hip waiting for an answer.

"Um, the blue?" Blaine suggested, his voice a little high pitched in reply. He felt himself breathe in.

Kurt smiled, beaming and wide before pulling the offending articles away from Blaine's grasp and pulling a self satisfied smile at his brother. "See," he urged with a hint of playful venom, "someone other than me is interested and does give a damn."

As Kurt flounced off in the direction of his bathroom, Blaine offered Finn a grateful thumbs up and perched on the edge of Kurt's bed.

"So you like Kurt?" Finn asked. He shuffled on his bed to reach a sitting position.

It was blunt but expected. Blaine wasn't sure he was quite ready for the Spanish inquisition but he found himself preparing to give as good as he got. He was aware of Finn and his temperament so was ready for anything he could throw his way.

"I do."

Finn air punched. "I knew it," he cried with more joviality than Blaine was expecting, "I knew when we came to collect Kurt and you helped us carry all his crap up to his room. No guy he'd known for two minutes would have given a damn."

Blaine tried not to let his cheeks darken, he tried hard, but it was inevitable. He wasn't sure he should remain in the room from fear of saying or doing something that could potentially put any developments, however miniscule, with Kurt back miles.

"Look, Finn-" he began, his voice a little desperate.

"Dude, no need. I get it. Kurt's a good guy. He's my brother, well, kind of, and I've got his back which means, if you make him happy then that's ok. He didn't smile much at McKinley unless he was singing or on stage so... I guess it's good, you know, you making him smile?"

Blaine glanced up a fraction to meet the other boy's eyes. Finn smiled, charming and lopsided, and nodded with encouragement. Blaine could feel himself breathe out, the tension not thawing a little. "I make him smile?" he asked, not too sure why but wanting to know the answer badly.

"Yea dude. You do. Plus you know all about the stuff he likes and you do things like that," Finn gestured in reference to the outfit choosing incident, "so yea."

As this moment, Kurt stepped out of the bathroom, his clothes now fully arranged into an outfit Blaine was sure could be straight from the centrefold of GQ. It was outstanding how the word 'beautiful' often graced the tip of Blaine's tongue but Kurt embodied the phrase. He was angular in the best way and soft in the rest, holding his frame so elegantly yet with a subtle masculine edge too – a perfect combination.

Blaine, to avoid bumbling an awkward comment, forced a large smile and headed for the bathroom. "It ok if I take a shower?"

Kurt let out a noise. He hadn't meant to and he knew Finn, without even turning his head, was laughing into his lame excuse for printed literature, but he'd made it nonetheless.

"Y-yes I mean, of course. There are towels on the rail inside. You can use mine, they're the clean, pressed and expensive looking ones," he flashed a look of superiority towards his brother who rolled his eyes with a smirk, "and help yourself to anything else you might need."

Blaine happily nodded and closed the door slowly behind him. Kurt didn't move for a good few seconds, his brain frantically flashing images of brick walls and Mr Schue's terrible sweater vests in an attempt to suppress his more unruly teenage urges. '_Do not picture Blaine in the shower, do not picture Blaine in the shower'_ he repeated as a mantra, slowly taking breaths to calm his active mind.

"Totally trying to block the images out right?" Finn called from behind. Kurt didn't turn. He didn't even think before he nodded but he did, slowly and regretfully.

Finn laughed, quite possibly a giggle, and scoffed again. "Try having a girlfriend, well kind of not anymore but, try having a girl who wants a lavish Jewish Wedding and the starring role in a Broadway show until she'll even consider putting out."

Kurt would have hugged Finn for being so cool about everything but he didn't want to move. It was all a little too surreal. Kurt would have lied if he'd pretended like he hadn't fantasised what it'd be like to ever put himself in the position where a guy could stay over and wrap himself in one of his very well chosen towels- extra fluffy. He'd imaged that and much more, inspired by April Rhodes' muscle magazines, but it was alien and so detached from what he considered to be real life that he almost laughed. He had a guy he'd kissed (sort of) and was currently crazy about in his shower, using his Christmas bought Dolce toiletries and standing under his hot water. He shook his head, his hand flying to hide his face.

"Music," he cried, "this room is too quiet, we need music. It's Christmas for god's sakes."

Anything to mask the sound of the running water. Anything to remove Blaine's naked torso from his mind's eye.

Finn left after a few minutes of watching Kurt fold the same pair of jeans in frustration, to make a grilled cheese sandwich.

Kurt found himself perched upon his bed texting Mercedes.

"That shower is incredible."

Kurt dropped his phone. He felt his throat catch and his eyes spread wide. Blaine knew he was half naked and standing, wet, at the door to Kurt's en-suite but he had nowhere else to go. He wasn't shy or embarrassed, just more than a little aware of the fact that Kurt was the other person in the room. It was one of those defining moments where life can either give you a break or a slap in the face. It seemed, by the look of sheer incoherence on Kurt's face, that life was thinking it over.

Kurt's eyes slid from the springy dark curls to Blaine's shoulder, his very strong shoulders, to his chest which was patterned slightly with light chest hair. He took in the angle at which the towel lay on his defined hips and felt himself shiver. It was unnerving and Kurt's skin burned. It was then that his breathing shuddered. His hand reached up to his face without even understanding why. It rested lighting behind his ear, his head cocking to the side ever so slightly. He knew he should have been more discrete and definitely more embarrassed but there was something in Blaine's blatant attitude that stunned him. They weren't necessarily afraid of each other in that moment, their eyes locked deeply, but just starkly aware of the fact that it was intensely new and boldly cliché. Kurt's skin tingled gorgeously as he shuffled into the duvet. Something changed though – reality happened. Kurt pushed himself up and averted his gaze. He began to walk past Blaine, his gaze finding his feet. He could not do this. He couldn't allow himself to do this when he had absolutely no idea what he was doing or what was expected of him or even how to simply react to a half naked boy in his bedroom. His lack of frame of reference and the prospect of making a great fool out of himself was what fuelled his spark of fear. It was enough for him to turn a deep red and for his breathing to stutter. He had to get out.

"Um, good. Do you erm, I'll just..." Kurt stuttered, sidestepping his way towards the exit. He felt the charge between them as he passed, his hands positively aching to catch the drips from Blaine's elbow and chin.

Blaine could see what was happening. He hadn't meant to scare Kurt away or freak him out. He'd boarded with boys his entire life and this was normal behaviour. He didn't feel awkward with others but he'd forgotten it was Kurt, Kurt who hadn't kissed another let alone grown comfortable with other guys. He felt foolish and cruel for not considering Kurt's reaction. He quickly reached out and pulled his discarded t-shirt over his wet frame. It fell lopsided over his chest as he spoke, a hint of panic in his voice.

"Kurt? Hey Kurt!"

The other boy turned, seemingly shy. "Hmm mm?"

Blaine could see Kurt's blush and registered every nervous flicker of his eyes. It only made his heart ache more. He wanted to reach out and tug Kurt to him, to show him he needn't be freaked out by a single thing, not where Blaine was concerned. He wanted to calm Kurt, to soothe the heat on his cheeks. Blaine realised in that moment exactly the stark differences in what they were comfortable with and how sensitive both had to be in the steps they took. A kiss was one thing but he was acutely aware of how much of Kurt's confidence and strength it took to be able to do it in the first place. It was at this moment Blaine was also able to understand and appreciate that Kurt cared a lot more than he was able to show. He felt his heart beat faster as he swallowed hard.

"I um, look, come here." Blaine signalled for Kurt's to join him on the edge of Kurt's bed, not before rapidly tugging on his pajama pants in the bathroom. He returned to see Kurt picking nervously at his sweater. As he sat by the other boy's side he took a breath and thought clearly. Their knees brushed a little as he spoke. "I'm sorry I haven't been as thoughtful as I should have."

Kurt could barely believe what he was hearing. "What?" he mumbled in shock, his eyes finding Blaine's.

"I just walked into your room like that and I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable," Blaine explained with a gentle honesty that caused Kurt's stomach to clench. The air seemed tight around them.

"Blaine, I-"

"No," Blaine reassured with a shake of his head. Kurt noticed his hair had begun to dry a little into smooth curls. It was all a little too much. "I shouldn't have done that and I'm truly sorry. I should have thought. I'm just so used to living at Dalton and wandering in the showers like that. I mean Wes and David are hardly discrete and when you've lived with them as long as I have and-"

"Blaine. Shush," Kurt warned, his hand tentatively placing itself on Blaine's knee for a second, with a widening of his eyes. It was ridiculous and, if truth be told, Blaine was being over dramatic. "There's no need to apologise. You need to stop worrying about me like this. You just stunned me, that's all."

Blaine nodded. "I just saw that you looked uncomfortable and I felt to blame."

Kurt laughed gently and sighed, letting the tension flow out as he did so. "Blaine you were in a towel. In my bedroom. Wet. Need I really say anymore because I honestly don't think I'm ready to."

It was Blaine's turn to blush. He barely had a hold on his mind. Kurt was saying what he thought he was... wasn't he? "So I didn't upset you?"

Kurt let out a sharp laugh as he shook his head. "If I'm upset you'll know. I can honestly say that I can't ever imagine being angry with you," he mused, his head tilting thoughtfully, "unless you continue to tiptoe around me and then I may just unleash my inner demon."

Kurt winked. It was a strange moment in which he realised Blaine truly did have a flaw. He had a desperate need to be perfect. Kurt knew the feeling of constantly striving to be the best, pushing to challenge himself and his extremely engrained need to dress and perform with the utmost class. What Blaine did was different; he was painfully pristine. He was always striving for such with a steely determination and an unfortunate side affect of appearing annoyingly idealistic and, in a way, smugly flawless. He cared enormously, Kurt couldn't express how much he felt that, but the fact that Blaine could never seem to just 'be' or to make those necessary gawky mistakes and to endure those awkward moments in life was becoming obvious. He was so graceful and presented. Kurt just wanted to squeeze the life out of him then sit back and watch the fall out. Maybe he wasn't the only one struggling.

"I'm being too intense?"

Kurt smiled, blinking under his eyelashes. "A little."

"I know," Blaine sighed, his fingers running over the bumps in Kurt's decorative duvet, "I don't mean to be."

"I know," Kurt repeated with the same tone of voice and with an added dash of affection, "I just don't want you to worry about me. Things are allowed to be awkward. In fact, I demand it happens every now and again. I'm good at it you know? You don't last at McKinley without a thick skin to endure anything that's thrown at you. Dumpster tossing does that to you, so I think you in a towel may just be something I could endure."

Blaine smirked, his eyes dancing happily and a lot more relaxed than previously. "I don't do awkward." It was the first sign of self deprecation that Kurt had seen in Blaine's eyes and he cherished it.

"Evidently," Kurt replied with a smart raise of his eyebrows.

"I come from a long line of the polished and pretentious."

"You're not pretentious," Kurt urged, his hand reaching to lay beside Blaine's on the bed. His fingers tingled nicely as he slid his eyes to the other boy's hazel ones. "You're warm and caring and you have a giving heart."

Blaine was sure, if he wasn't already crazy about Kurt, that he'd have fallen hard and fast in the moment. The cornflower blue of this sweater brought out the opal tint to his eyes, their iridescent colouring sparkled even without any light shining on them. He spoke so much truth and could see straight into Blaine's heart so starkly and shockingly.

"Thank you."

Kurt breathed in, his fingers sliding to lightly lay over Blaine's. They looked at each other; Blaine smiled fondly and, without breaking his gaze, lifted his fingers to tangle with Kurt's. It felt nice, more than nice.

"Ready for a day of fun?" Kurt whispered, unable to muster anything more substantial through the sheer jolt of bliss he was experiencing. He was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He'd asserted himself and Blaine had even opened up. He felt a surge of confidence in that moment.

Blaine beamed, lacing his fingers further with Kurt's. "I can't wait."

_**NOTES: I know... I know... this day is in 2 Chapters and taking a little longer than you'd imagine but I hope it's not losing your interest. The next Chapter is OFFICIALLY my favourite I've written... there's a LOT of development (and their day of fun) and I seriously couldn't stop smiling as I wrote it. I can't wait for you guys to read it.**_

_**I SHOULD have it up tomorrow. I wanted to wish you all a Merry Christmas/Holiday of your choosing. I hope you have a wonderful two days. **_


	20. That Moment

_**I couldn't leave you guys waiting too long. I can't even say how bloomin' fun it was to write this AND how almost tiring. I seriously SWOONED writing this myself. I sincerely hope you like it and that it came out well.**_

_**Thank you all a RIDICULOUS amount for all of your lovely, kind words. This Chapter is for those who have stuck with this story from the beginning. You'll eventually, maybe, be satisfied that the slow burn is paying off ;) **_

_**PS: I'm apologising now for any British-isms (some of these words may not be typically American but I do try a lot to mask my PAINFULLY British ways!) also please excuse any small teeny mistakes. It's been checked and checked again but if I've overlooked any, I'm sorry, forgive my poor Christmas shopping addled brain ;)**_

Kurt had spent a long time dreaming of such days. He'd always wished to have someone to share things with, to simply turn to and smile at or to marvel at how fun something was. He was well aware that he and Blaine didn't have a label and he didn't know if they ever would but Kurt was, for the first time in a very long time, exceptionally happy.

"Oh Burt come on, please. Come on it's a husband's job you have to do it." Carole had spent fifteen minutes pleading her husband to win her an oddly shaped gigantic dog with a fluffy purple bow around his neck.

They'd been at the market for an hour and a half. Blaine had adhered to Kurt's request and left his short curls looser and even deigned to wear one of Kurt's deep red woollen scarves. He'd been incredibly touched when Kurt had exclaimed, in front of his parents and brother, that it would compliment his hazel eyes. Nobody had ever commented on them before.

Kurt had opted for his trapper hat again, making Blaine only more desperate to kiss him. It framed his face, cheeky strands of hair peeking out of the front, and caused him to look impossibly cute.

"Burt! Burt! Burt!" Finn chanted, his mom joining in to cheer Burt's hammer wielding skills. Kurt shrivelled his nose a little at the somewhat cheesiness of the moment. He imagined Finn in a leather jacket and slicked quiff and Carole in a shiny pink bomber jacket and poodle skirt. It was too Grease Lightenin' for his taste.

"What?" Blaine asked, nudging Kurt's arm with a smirk, "you not the fairground type?"

Kurt looked down at his boots, noticing that the damn grass had stained them a little. "Don't get me wrong, I love fairgrounds but I guess I'm yet to experience them properly and I don't know, something seems a little contrived about them."

Blaine had to laugh. "That's the whole point. If you can't embrace the cliché then there's no point being here." As he spoke, he high fived Finn who'd helped Burt hit the hammer, the golden bell clanging as Carole beamed with joy. Kurt had to admit, his newfound family were pretty adorable when viewed from afar- highly dysfunctional but adorable nonetheless.

They'd moved on soon after, Carole adopting another large stuffed animal won with Burt's expert dart's skills, this time a carrot with googly eyes and arms. Kurt had been given the unfortunate task of carrying the monstrosity, only prompting Blaine to laugh at him and Finn to plunge into his pocket, grab his iPhone and promptly text the entire of Glee club the offending picture. Safe to say, Kurt was ready to kick Finn's ass in some way.

Kurt found himself detached from the group for a moment or so, noticing how easy Blaine seemed to fit in with his family. He'd taken to Carole and vice versa and even Finn had addressed him as 'bro' much to Kurt's amusement. His sentimental heart grew ten sizes. He felt himself drawn to a stand decorated entirely with crystals. The market, a collection of mismatched wooden huts decorated in fake snow, were crammed together to create a magical walkway of traditional old-fashioned festivities. Kurt's eyes however, were drawn inevitably to the shiny things. His gloved hand reached out to smooth over a large clear crystal cut on a slant to allow the light to scatter decoratively. They were beautiful. He slid off his glove and stared down, mesmerised by another crystal, this one blue in colour and circular when held to the light. He picked it up, twirling it in his fingers and felt himself choke up. He swallowed, hurrying to place it back on the counter, before he made a fool of himself. He could only see his mother's face, her hair falling in her eyes and as she explained about the refraction of light to him as she sat in their bay window. It was a memory Kurt was sure he'd never stop letting fill is mind and wipe it of anything troubling or sad. She was his comfort blanket and any memory of her, however small, Kurt held onto fiercely. She had always hung crystals, making it her personal aim to satisfy any room with something pretty. Kurt retreated regretfully from the stall, his eyes never leaving the blue crystal with its beautiful nuances and delicate shape.

"Hey. We said no shiny things, remember?" Blaine called, pinching Kurt's sides as he snuck up from behind him.

Kurt jumped, smiling a little but through force of will. "I know, I know," he replied, joining in with the joke, "moth to a flame I guess."

Blaine chuckled affectionately as the rest of the family sidled up and walked off. Kurt glanced back, his eyes finding the blue crystal and lingering for a moment, unsure as to why it meant so much. He turned with a heavy sigh and followed Finn into the dodgems.

Kurt learned something new about Blaine Thornton. He was competitive. Finn was particularly happy to ram anyone in sight and to woop and holler at the top of his voice but Blaine had out done him in sly skill. Kurt had stood back for this one, allowing the boys to fight it out. He stood at the barrier, Carole and Burt having gone to grab a sandwich. The sun was going down gradually causing the neon lights of the fairground rides to twinkle and glow vibrantly in rainbow patterns.

After a thrashing from Blaine and much back slapping and male appreciation, Finn happily joined his mom for a snack.

"So, we've done the dodgems and you've trailed the stalls, Carole's bought jam and won two beautiful," he laughed, "toys and inflated your father's ego for today. Is there anything left that you'd like to do?"

Kurt placed the hideous carrot by his family and turned in the seat he'd settled in. Carole glanced toward Burt and raised her eyebrows, unbeknownst to the two boys. Burt's face didn't change but he let his eyes study Kurt's behaviour and imparticular, the way he seemed to glow. Finn smirked into his extra large sandwich at the exchange.

Kurt was smiling. "I did see a candyfloss stall," he suggested, his mouth watering at the very thought.

"Kurt Hummel and candy floss. I never expected that. No quips about your skin in the morning even though it's perfectly flawless?"

To this, Kurt hit out to slap Blaine's arm in mock horror. "How dare you?" he snapped, "it's pink fluff... that you eat. Need I say more?"

Blaine began to laugh, leaning over the table towards Kurt who appeared to lean back in feigned disgust. "You just earned a couple more gay points there, you do realise?"

Kurt scowled. "Didn't realise we had a rating system _Blaine_." He spoke his name with force, lingering over the letters to show his mock distaste.

"Do you want me to buy you whipped pink fluff or not?" Blaine asked, standing up and offering a gloved hand. Kurt felt frenzy like. He barely even registered that his family were in ear and eye shot and were tactically watching the playful exchange nor did he even remember the crassness of fairgrounds in general. Now, he wanted to smile and jump across the table to throw his arms around Blaine's neck. He had a counterpart now, someone to bounce off and snap at and who would happily play along and snap back. Something felt incredible inside as he skipped after Blaine, pulling dramatically in an attempt to rid his hand from Blaine's grasp. He didn't want to but it was all part of the act and nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to stop him from revelling in the sheer childishness of it all.

Carole smiled slowly, her eyes crinkling. "He looks happy," she stated simply, keeping her eyes on her husband who was still staring after his son, his mind lost in thought.

He glanced at her eventually with a nod. "He does," was all he said, carefully and considered.

"You still ok to have our Christmas celebration tonight? Are you comfortable with leaving them both alone?" she asked, knowing that she'd let Finn stay at Rachel's and Quinn live under their roof and praying her husband would recognise Kurt's increasing age or Blaine's obvious good nature.

Burt nodded. "I'm doing this right aren't I?"

Carole lovingly beamed at her husband, her woollen gloved hand reaching out to stroke his arm. "Kurt's happy. You're doing everything right."

-.-.-.-.-

"Mmmmmmm," Kurt uttered dreamily, his tongue darting out to lick the dark pink crystals forming on the surface of the floss.

Blaine was sure he should throw himself into the nearest 'hook a duck' pond to remain on the safe side and cool himself off as he let his eyes follow every movement of Kurt's mouth. It was unnervingly sexy. He watched as Kurt tipped his head to the side and nibbled daintily at the candy, stopping to lick his lips every few seconds. Blaine felt the ache rising in his chest, unable to surpress it for much longer. He knew something had to be done and soon. They were progressively flirty and so much more comfortable with each other. Blaine had noticed that he wasn't the only instigator of affection either as Kurt had leaned against him once or twice, reaching out to grab his hand on one occasion during the day too. Blaine's recognition of those baby steps was monumental. Things were changing and a little faster than he'd anticipated.

"Want some?" Kurt asked, holding the stick out. Blaine's gaze lingered on the way Kurt spoke, his lips pouting prettily, dotted with sparkly pink crystals. He looked edible and Blaine didn't know how he stopped himself from licking them off.

Kurt watched as Blaine tilted his head to eat the candy gently, his eyes remaining on his own, glittering and almost suggestive. Kurt wasn't too sure if he was reading into it or imagining the gloss to Blaine's eyes and the way he'd been staring at Kurt's lips for the past ten minutes but it was addictive. Kurt wanted him to carry on, he never wanted Blaine to stop looking at him like that. He'd never felt desirable before and had certainly never been looked at as if he mattered or as if he was truly wanted. He felt coy, his eyelashes meeting his cheek as he glanced down then back up. Yes, Blaine was still staring. He offered a tiny smirk. Blaine responded with a smile so infused with wonder that Kurt was sure he couldn't hold himself upright anymore. Something had to give.

As Blaine finished with the stick of floss, he passed it back. Kurt watched as Blaine laughed to himself, unsure as to where to wipe his sticky fingers. Kurt held his breath for a second as his eyes lingered on a small remaining droplet of candy on Blaine's lip. It was as if it was an invitation to touch, a request to move closer and Kurt was not sitting back now. He could barely breathe and function without action now, knowing Blaine was feeling much the same (by some miracle). He slid his hand out of his glove once more and stepped closer, Blaine's eyes following him expectantly as he did so. He reached to lightly brush Blaine's cheek, his finger sliding gently down to his lips. Kurt felt his eyes hood and glaze over as he focused on Blaine and the way it felt to touch. Blaine looked at him, his eyes so full of fondness that Kurt felt himself utterly captivated. He tried to breathe in but it caught in his throat. Blaine seemed to smile at this as Kurt's hands drifted to his sides, now suddenly slightly unsure of what to do next. Kurt was mesmerised, letting his eyes track every miniscule detail of Blaine's face. They stood in the centre of a bustling market but he barely noticed a single sound other than that of his heart beating in his ears, fingertips and every other part of him.

Blaine smiled, charmed by Kurt's obvious mindless state. He watched as the other boy bit his lip and rested back on his heels, increasing the distance between them by a fraction of an inch. It suddenly felt colder and emptier. As he left his glove in his pocket, he raised his hand slowly and grinned, lazy and blissful, to stroke a singular line down Kurt's cheek. He watched the other boy blink in mild shock but it was the second that Kurt nuzzled his head into the touch that did it. They both knew then. It was unmistakeably sweet, undeniably passionate and completely enchanting. Kurt grinned, swooning, and rested his cheek against Blaine's warm palm. He chuckled noiselessly, his eyelashes fluttering as he licked his lips.

"Move. Parents!" Finn coughed loudly as he approached from the side.

Both boys jumped apart, Kurt licking his lips furiously and attempting to suppress the fierce burn to his cheeks. Finn laughed hard, his eyes suggestive as he pulled faces at both of them. Neither Carole or Burt had seen anything, Kurt was sure of that, what with Finn being so distracting, but he still couldn't quite find the resolve to breathe in. Shock took over.

Blaine smirked, lowering his head to hide his obvious emotions. He had to glance back at Kurt, he just had to see if he'd imagined the soundless words that had just passed between them. As Carole linked Kurt's arm and walked ahead with him, Finn sauntering along with Burt, Blaine ducked to catch his eye. As he did, Kurt blinked a few times, his face glowing, before smiling the sweetest and most beautiful smile Blaine was sure he'd ever see. He knew then that there was no way Kurt was going to fall asleep without being shown exactly how spectacular he was.

-.-.-.-.-

"So sweetie, Finn has gone to Rachel's as she wants to talk to him apparently and we'll be home around eleven. I left some scones in the refrigerator and some of that delicious jam and cream so help yourself. There's also some of my chilli in the pot on the stove. If you need us, call us. Ok?"

Blaine stood behind Kurt at the door, in the shadows, as Burt and Carole left for their meal. "Anything, ok?" Burt confirmed with a firm stare and severely expressive eyes. Blaine was sure he'd missed something or that Kurt and his father spoke a secret silent language but Kurt's cheeks had flushed pink and he nodded in response. Blaine wondered if Burt had rigged the house with cameras or installed a team of well trained spies, armed with his collection of shot guns, to surround the perimeter.

As he watched their car pull out of the drive, he was hit with the full force of reality. He wanted Kurt. He wanted him more than he was sure he'd ever wanted anything. He'd been sure to follow Kurt's lead and listen to his concerns with the added obligation of responding to his agenda. Kurt was nervous and timid when it came to intimacy, that was true, but he was responding so much more in general to Blaine that he knew someone had to make a move. The fact that they were now being left alone after a day of sheer and unadulterated playful flirting, was a sign from God, Blaine was certain of it. Kurt deserved to be cared for, respected and wooed but Blaine was also sure that he needed a helping hand. There was something in his eyes that spoke of a very specific fear and uncertainty that Blaine wanted to gently remove completely. Blaine had kissed, he'd made out, he'd gone a little farther but he knew Kurt had done none of those things and was yet to experience the sensation of undoing yourself and surrendering to feelings so much more powerful and amazing than you could imagine.

"Hot Chocolate?" Kurt turned and asked, his eyes shining in the darkness. Blaine could see, beyond them, Kurt was on edge.

-.-.-.-

"You want milk?" Kurt asked, scooting over a millimetre to let Blaine past without needing a reply. He was tense. He could feel the air around them thicken as dense as the silence in the house. As they moved around the kitchen, legs would brush or elbows would tap slightly, arms would collide and each would shimmy a millimetre closer just because they could.

Blaine appeared to be relaxed, which Kurt was thankful for. They'd shared the most wonderfully silly day together and enjoyed each other's company ending in an oddly charged and intimate moment in which Kurt was sure he lost his mind. There was nowhere to hide from it now, Blaine knew how much he wanted him, or at least Kurt thought so.

"Couch?" Kurt asked. They weren't talking much and nothing seemed off about it. Kurt took it as a happy sign they'd grown easy with each other. Kurt pressed the power button on the remote, the television flashing bright in the corner of the room as he lowered himself into the cushions. Blaine settled himself flush to Kurt's side and brought the mug to his mouth to drink slowly in repetitive motion. Kurt was transfixed, watching as the liquid pooled a little on the edge of the mug and left small bubbles on Blaine's lips.

Blaine smiled. "You know, staring is rude," he joked out of the blue. Kurt blinked back at him.

"Oh god sorry," he fumbled for words, growing hot with embarrassment. This was not how it was meant to go- he didn't want to feel useless and awkward. Get a grip, he schooled himself mentally, his inner monologue on turbo overdrive.

"It's ok. I'm teasing."

Kurt chuckled nervously, watching the cream swirl in his mug. He felt as if he couldn't breathe out, the air trapped and his limbs tense with anticipation.

"Do you want more cream? I'll get more," he rushed out, his words running into the next. The stutter to Kurt's voice caused an ache so deep inside Blaine that he couldn't stand it.

"Kurt," he whispered, reaching to grab the other boy's wrist, "can we talk for a moment?"

Kurt felt dizzy, a heady swooping of nerves hitting him square in the stomach as he sat cross legged opposite Blaine on the couch. "What do you want to talk about?"

He didn't even need to ask. He watched as Blaine swallowed and took a long breath. "You kissed me."

Kurt wanted to die. Honestly ran through his bones. He didn't know if he could deal with the fear of not knowing how to react to situations like this one. "I, um, yes."

Blaine smiled. "Why did you kiss me?"

Kurt felt lost in Blaine's eyes. The bottomless feel to them drew him in until he melted into the moment and took a breath. He had to do this. He just had to. "Because I wanted to."

Blaine chuckled, breathy and gentle. "And why did you want to?"

"Because I was going to miss you and I care about you?" Kurt offered, his eyes expansive and intensely naive but filled with an acute desire to just jump in head first, into every feeling charging through his body.

Blaine shuffled closer, his knees now in line with Kurt's. He leaned forward, placing his mug on the floor. "I'm so sorry I didn't kiss you back."

Kurt felt his spine turn to jelly. It was like being serenaded, like slow dancing, like sighing blissfully at an old romantic movie climax. "It's um, it's fine," was all he had to offer. Words were insignificant.

"I wasn't expecting you to kiss me and you caught me off guard," Blaine explained, his words considered and fused with confidence. He had to make Kurt see how good things could be. He had to be the person Kurt needed.

"I think I caught myself off guard."

Blaine nodded with a small grin. "You remember earlier when you asked about my hair and I had a request in return?" Kurt could barely move, his heart beating double time. He nodded a fraction. "I want you to kiss me again and I promise, this time, I'll kiss you back."

Kurt felt his breath shudder in his chest. He couldn't move still, his body fused with such intensity and desire that it was too much to handle. "I..."

He simply blinked back. Blaine knew he had to help out. He could see Kurt shaking, his fingers trembling slightly and panicked, concerned that he'd placed too much on Kurt too soon and embarrassed him at a moment that was supposed to be so cherished and blessed. He slid forward on the couch and reached over, his fingers tenderly pushing a stray hair off Kurt's forehead. He lightly drew a line down Kurt's cheek, all the while keeping their eyes locked, until he reached his chin.

Kurt leaned in ever so slowly, his heart so loud he was sure it was going to embarrass him. He felt exposed and terrified, so worried that he'd do something wrong. His eyes drifted shut as Blaine's face drew closer and closer in tiny steps. Kurt could eventually feel a warm breath on his cheek; a shadow of a touch across his lips, his spine shuddering and head reeling. As Blaine pressed firmer, Kurt felt a warm hand on his jaw, cradling his cheek and pulling him closer. He moved his lips gently feeling Blaine's below his, warm and soothing, so gentle like satin but, as Blaine deepened the kiss, Kurt sensed a hint of strength and slight roughness which he couldn't get enough of. It felt real and present unlike anything Kurt had ever experienced before.

Blaine could feel Kurt shaking, could sense his nerves and knew exactly the very singular moment that they washed away. Kurt gasped slightly, his lips tentative and achingly slow but perfectly searching. Blaine felt his body fall a hundred feet, his heart clenching in his chest at the feeling of Kurt so close to him, his lips teasing slowly at Blaine's.

"Kurt..." he whispered feather-light against the other boy's lips, his thumb stroking a line on his cheek. Kurt pulled his lips away gently, gazing up woozy into Blaine's eyes.

"Mhmmmm?" was the only noise possible, Kurt's brain now liquid and entire body unable to respond in any way except to pull closer to Blaine.

The feeling was indescribable as Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt's waist. Kurt responded fluid-like, unwrapping his legs from his sitting position as Blaine lowered them into the cushions. Kurt felt his head fall back resting on a pillow as he stretched out, feline and smooth. Blaine smiled. "You ok?" he whispered again, his words ghosting over Kurt's skin, eliciting the sweetest sound Blaine had ever heard in protest at the space between them.

Kurt didn't care about anything anymore. He wasn't sure Blaine was real and wasn't taking any chances to find out either way. He couldn't bear him being even a centimetre away so his resolve weakened, his nerves subdued and he melted into the embrace, his arms wrapping themselves around Blaine's neck drawing him close.

They kissed, long and slow, Kurt learning exactly how to react and how to move. Blaine seemed to be letting him do all of the work but responding with just as much enthusiasm once they became comfortable. Kurt's fervent hands tangled into Blaine's hair, holding on as he arched his back to deepen the kiss. He could barely remember where he was as he felt Blaine's lips press harder, peppering kisses down his jaw and onto his neck. He was sure he was making noises but didn't care.

It all tasted just like candy floss and hot chocolate, so delicious and encapsulating. Kurt all but nibbled Blaine's lip causing him to laugh slightly. "Not edible," Blaine mumbled with breathless amusement, as Kurt murmured something in the affirmative. He felt Blaine's hands slide down his sides to his hips, following the motion and snaking around his back to hold them tight together. Kurt sighed, a small noise breaking the silence again as Blaine leaned up and closed his eyes, breathing deep and steady.

"Need to slow down," he said simply, licking his lips. Kurt squirmed beneath him a little, his entire body filling with desperation for more. The need was intense and something he had never ever experienced. As Blaine sat up, pulling Kurt close as he did so, he smiled dazedly. Kurt leaned in, draping his arms around Blaine's neck and pulling him snug as he climbed into his lap and straddled him. Blaine enclosed Kurt in his arms as they wrapped around his waist. They simply gazed at each other, losing themselves in the look in the other's eyes or the heat from the other's body.

"How's that for a first kiss?" Blaine asked, with a smile so immensely packed with emotion, his heart fluttered frantically. He couldn't take his eyes off Kurt's lips, the pink touch to his cheek and the way his hips seemed to wriggle closer at every opportunity.

Kurt bit his lip for a moment, looking into Blaine's eyes. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to laugh at how incredibly sexy that one question was. He wanted to try to articulate exactly how perfect and passionate and spine-tinglingly inconceivable the past few minutes had been. He wanted to collapse and re-live every second over and over until it was solid in his memory forever. He wanted to ask a hundred questions about how they even got to this moment. He wanted to crawl so close and talk forever, learning every detail possible about Blaine and how he came to be so incredible. Kurt was sure there was no other person more respectful and perfect to share a first kiss with, not to mention so staggering hot it was beyond comparison. His arms, strong and warm, his hair just asking to be played with, his eyes hypnotically deep and expressive and his lips... so soft yet different to anything he'd ever felt before. He hadn't come close to connecting to another person so deeply. It was indescribable how whole Kurt felt, sitting tangled up in Blaine's arms, his eyes finding that link with Blaine's in the most sincere way. He felt gathered up and held together for the first time in his entire life that he never ever wanted to let go.

_**NOTES: THAT'S WHAT YOU CALL PROGRESS! Well, there probably won't be an update until after Christmas Day so I thought I'd leave a little Christmas present. Have a wonderful holiday : )**_


	21. Open Hearts

**_FIRST OFF - this was uploaded twice because there was a slight wording issue. _**

_**Wow... I was just thanking you for 300 reviews and now I'm approaching 400. I don't quite know what to say! I'm so unbelievably grateful and flattered for the wonderful comments.**_

_**Couple of things: Special thanks to Madeline1401 (so are impossibly lovely- thank you), paperotta and Joanna – also everyone else who had sent me personal messages too. **_

_**1. I hope you all had a VERY lovely Christmas and thank you to those who wished me one!**_

_**2. Regarding the 'Christmas Market' – I am SO sorry I confused those in America. I've had quite a few responses saying that such things wouldn't happen in the US for weather and simply that it does NOT happen in America. As I'm from Northern England, I find it very difficult to remember certain things are SO inherently different. We have Christmas markets here (and it's MADLY cold) with shops, food, cakes/sweets, rides and music. It's almost a tradition here so I'm so sorry I didn't write US specific. I KNOW and I did warn about some British-isms – candy floss is cotton candy (I've learned since) and dodgems are bumper cars. Sorry for this and I hope it didn't spoil your enjoyment of the Chapter.**_

_**LASTLY ... I have to apologise for some TINY little mistakes I've pinpointed in letters being missed from words and some certain teeny errors. I am NOT going to let this happen again, I promise. Can only apologise if, along the way, I've made some teeny little mistakes.**_

_**Thank you ALL once again. This one is a bit of everything and is a little different to the last Chapter but I really hope you like it. This was actually pretty cathartic to write in parts so I HOPE it's not too self indulgent. I hear those people who said they wanted it to go back to Dalton and I am taking them back (of course cos it's more fun!) so not to worry ... read on and you shall (hopefully) not be disappointed... :D**_

_**As always, PLEASE forgive any British-isms. Alert me of any and I'll try and cut them out.**_

"Thank you," Kurt said quietly, his voice unsure and still laced in shock as his hand found Blaine's chest, still sitting in his lap.

"You alright?" Blaine asked gently, keeping his eyes fixed to try to pick out any rogue emotions crossing Kurt's face. His eyes were still wide and obviously processing the past ten minutes so Blaine needed to ask, he needed to be sure that Kurt was comfortable with what had happened.

Kurt took a breath, his shoulders dropping a centimetre or two as he sighed out. "Better than alright," he replied, slowly sliding his hand up to glide around Blaine's neck as he leaned close, pressing his nose into the skin between ear and shoulder. It was warm to the touch and almost intoxicating, the way that Blaine smelled so new and exciting. He'd tasted lip gloss and something reminiscent of flowers as Brittany had kissed him. He hadn't kissed back, he'd simply lay there trying to be into it and forcing himself to close his eyes when he felt it was necessary. The closeness had been nice and she certainly knew how to be gentle but Kurt had felt nothing. Sitting wrapped around Blaine, feeling slightly embarrassed at how tight he was holding on, he couldn't cope with the emotions coursing through his body. So much affection, want, shock, need, fear, exultation, naivety and an almost unbridled feeling of being entirely on show.

He'd always protected himself out of necessity. From his layered clothes and long sleeves to his witty one-liners designed to shoot a person two feet away and keep them there. He'd fought with others to prove a point, complained to some about their lack of understanding and had refused or knocked back help usually when it was offered. He was fine alone and had never needed anyone, except his father, his entire life so what was the point in welcoming someone else with complex emotions and pointless personal drama into his life? He had enough in his own and no room for another. Except he wanted more, he wanted someone and he felt a latent desire to find out what it would feel like to fall for someone and experience all that is perfectly normal and teenage.

Blaine wasn't dramatic or intrusive, he certainly wasn't pushy and had an unique ability to forever remain a gentleman. Yes, Kurt acknowledged, he was a little self-righteous and could definitely do with loosening up at times, had an unrivalled need to fix or protect and was far too perfect that it was irritating. This all said, Kurt liked Blaine's flaws, they reminded him that he was human and hell, he had plenty of his own. He knew he could be snappy, was well aware his ambition shone out boldly and he was certain that he had a gift for shutting himself off in a single second. This was why, sitting wrapped up in another person felt utterly terrifying and unnatural.

"Any closer and you'll suffocate me," Blaine mumbled into Kurt's shoulder, their height difference becoming a little obvious. Kurt leaned back in realisation and unwrapped himself quickly, blushing as he did so.

"Little carried away," he mindlessly spoke, sitting to one side, leaving Blaine suddenly feeling cold and empty.

"Hey?" he whispered, moving to Kurt's side on the couch, "don't do that ok?"

"What did I do?"

"You turned in on yourself," Blaine explained, trying to catch Kurt's eye to attempt to reassure him. It happened all too quickly, Kurt sidling up against him in one fluid moment and resting there pressed so close without a single word. It took minutes before they were asleep.

Kurt opened his eyes slowly and laboriously as the warmth in the room kept them heavy. He felt sedate, boneless almost, and more relaxed than he ever thought possible. He felt movement so his brain reacted, waking him up instantly.

"Hey?"

Kurt realised his head was pressed tight into the crook of Blaine's neck, his arm draped lazily over the boy's chest and his entire body flush with Blaine's side. He glanced up, smiling slightly as his eyes reached another set.

"This is becoming a habit," he yawned, sitting up and stretching himself as Blaine rose up too, both straightening themselves out.

"One I could get used to," Blaine whispered, leaning in close to Kurt again, unable to keep a distance anymore. Kurt shivered. Blaine leaned back into the couch and turned to face Kurt. "So... tonight," he mused wistfully, attempting to catch Kurt's eyes solidly but failing. Blaine could sense Kurt's reluctance to instigate anything further as he was straightening his clothes and fussing with his hair.

Kurt wandered down into his basement leaving Blaine on the couch, confused and a fraction fearful of what was going to happen. He followed immediately.

"You did it again," Blaine spoke, leaning on the steps and peering down into the room where Kurt stood, central and motionless.

"I'm sorry," he muttered with his back to Blaine, his heart beating fast and panicked. He didn't know why he felt so scared or why he wasn't able to breathe right and think straight but it was petrifying. He didn't like feeling that way. He missed his control, longed to have it back and to assemble those barriers again. Blaine was open and honest in a way that was almost intimidating to Kurt. Yes, Kurt would speak his mind and was never afraid of offering an opinion but the real things... the secrets and personal corners of his mind were private and forever deemed so. He had never felt it was possible to show those thing to another person.

Blaine's hands landed gently on his hips, turning him on the spot and let himself look into Blaine's eyes. He blinked as he saw their true honesty shining bright.

"Talk to me," Blaine said softly, removing his hands from Kurt and placing them in his own pockets.

Kurt sighed and shook his head, unable to find the words that wouldn't cause Blaine to run a mile. He didn't want Blaine to leave, he wanted him close and pressed firm against him again, his warmth so soothing and precious after seventeen years of dreaming of a feeling so comforting. The problem was that Kurt didn't know how to deal with this new flood of emotion and the prospect of letting another person see his soul. It frightened him that Blaine might not like what he would discover.

They found themselves on Kurt's bed, sitting shoulder to shoulder leaning against the wall.

"I've never felt like that before," Kurt said quietly as he felt his face on his hands. He didn't want Blaine to see the fear in his eyes.

"To be honest, neither have I," Blaine began, turning and laying a hand lovingly on Kurt's knee, "Just because I've had a little more experience doesn't mean that I'm an expert and have been there and seen it all Kurt. This is all confusing, I get it but I want it to be clear."

"I like you," Kurt said suddenly, his palms sweating a little and a cool chill of candour rushing through his body.

Blaine chuckled lightly. "I'm a little crazy about you."

Kurt felt his entire body react to every syllable. It was like a warm blanket and a set of extra bright, extra vibrant fireworks simultaneously. He wasn't sure he'd ever hear those words in his life. He turned to look into Blaine's eyes again, desperate to find that connection again that made him so numb to the fear and so protected by desire and trust. He trusted and wanted Blaine... his brain was just too busy, too defensive and all too unused to affection.

"I think you scare me," Kurt admitted then fell silent. The tension flooded back immediately, Blaine flinching at the words.

"Kurt-" he began, frowning. As Kurt looked at him once again he felt cruel and downright thoughtless. It didn't come out like he'd intended.

"I'm sorry. I need to explain what I mean. You scare me _because_ you're so wonderful. You think anyone's ever acted like this towards me? You think anyone's ever done anything like that for me before? I don't know how to be around you even though you've only been completely honourable. I can't imagine anyone having a more perfect first kiss."

Blaine shook his head with a hint of a smile. "It takes two people to make a kiss that good Kurt," he laughed out with a breath, "and I understand more than I think you realise. I know you've been forced into things that haven't been your choice and it was so wrong of those people to treat you that way. I know you have been treated badly by people. It's so unfair and you don't deserve any of it. I don't want you to feel like that with me. I don't think I could bear th-"

"I don't. God I don't I promise. That's not why you scare me," Kurt cut in, panicked and turning to grab Blaine's hand," please don't think it is." His eyes were frantic and staring deep into Blaine's.

Blaine could see it- the fear. He felt Kurt's fingers dig into his hand, his emotions pouring directly into him.

"Tell me."

Kurt took another breath, steadying his racing heart. "I don't know how to do all of this. I don't think I've ever felt as exposed as I am right now and I don't know how to deal with that."

Blaine moved closer without realising. "Do you trust me?" he asked, sincere and slow.

Kurt nodded without a thought. "Yes. I think that's what I'm scared of and so grateful for at the same time."

"I can't promise I'm never going to make mistakes Kurt because I'm only human. I know I can be intense and a little over the top and some of my past is always going to be there. It's made me who I am and I'm learning but you have to realise how much I care about you."

Kurt smiled then, he couldn't resist the look in Blaine's eyes. They were eyes to get lost in.

"I'm a bitch you know?" Kurt spat out quickly, biting his lip, "I've been told."

Blaine chuckled. "You may have noticed that I can give as good as I get. I have Wes as a floor mate and my father happens to be the world's most uptight ass. I've got the skills."

Kurt flashed him a look so full of '_oh stop lying and being so perfect'_ and continued. "I'm kind of high maintenance."

Blaine laughed, resting his chin on his propped up elbow. "I happen to have, not that I talk about it very often, money to spare and plus, you're not high maintenance. There's a difference, you just like nice things."

"Ok then. I've never held a guy's hand. Not properly. I would fight to the death for a solo and I can be a really pushy when I want to be."

Blaine breathed in, readying himself to reply. "Firstly, that can be arranged," Kurt smirked, biting his lip again, "Secondly, bring it on and thirdly, there's nothing like a bit of spark to keep things interesting. You're not pushy, you're determined. There's nothing bad about that. I know I told you that you shouldn't try so hard at Dalton and that you needed to learn to be part of the team. That's true but there's nothing wrong with knowing and fighting for what you want. If you don't lose yourself, there's still a way to be a Dalton-boy and still kick up a little controversy every now and then."

Kurt let out a heavy but happy sigh and flopped back onto his back. Blaine stayed still, watching as Kurt lost himself in thought. "You have an answer for everything," he said finally with a small chuckle.

"There's something to add to my list."

Kurt sat up in a flash. "I don't want to be scared."

Blaine's eyes widened a millimetre then nodded, his brain catching up to Kurt's line of thought. "Just remember the way you felt before," Blaine offered slowly , smiling a little too dreamily. Kurt flushed scarlet. "Yes, remember that, remember how your heart raced and head went fuzzy and remember how close and warm and how nice it felt..."

"Blaine..." Kurt urged, his cheeks burning and arms desperate to reach out, lips aching to kiss again. He couldn't bear Blaine talking like this... it was all too desperately sexy. It was ruining his resolve.

"You remember?" Blaine asked, aware of how his mind flooded with headiness. Kurt nodded, stiff and holding himself back. "Did you feel scared then?" Kurt shook his head without a sound. "How do you feel now?"

"Like I want you to do it again."

Blaine laughed affectionately, shaking his head. "That can be arranged too but first ... what I'm getting at is the fact that there is no need to be scared. Not with me. You set the boundaries. You tell me how you're feeling and you control how fast things go. I know how it feels to open up for the first time and how frightening it is to let someone else in."

"You're not scary," Kurt explained, "it's the feelings. I don't know what to do."

"So we do what feels right and take things each day at a time."

Kurt considered this for a moment, his brow crinkling slightly in a way that made Blaine yearn to reach and cuddle him.

"You don't mind that I'll probably be useless and will make a ton of mistakes?" Kurt asked, his usually hidden insecurities flooding to the surface.

Blaine reached to hold his hand, squeezing tight. "As long as you don't mind me doing the same?" he quipped with a beaming smile.

Kurt let his head fall into his hands with a wry laugh. "How did we go from, erm, well you know that to this?"

"Easily," Blaine sang, infusing the conversation with something a little more light hearted. Kurt seemed to grin back but his heart wasn't fully in it, Blaine could see that – he wasn't convinced.

"Blaine. Can I just say stuff and will you just listen?"

"Of course," he replied earnestly, settling himself on the bed and leaning close to listen intently.

Kurt took a deep breath and set his hands daintily on his lap, his back straightening. "Ok," he breathed deep, "I like you. I really really like you. There I've said it. I wanted to kiss you and I wanted you to be my first kiss. You are the first person who has ever looked at me like I'm worthwhile and I worried thinking that I only had feelings for you because of this, because you paid me attention but it's not that. You're kind and caring and warm and fun, when you're not being all 'Dalton'. You're thoughtful and you're on my wavelength and you are, like really really affectionate. You reach out and just touch and it's weird. You're so different to anyone I've ever met before and believe me, McKinley's full of weird. I just can't breathe properly when I'm around you and it's something I can't control and it scares me so much but at the same time there's no way I can stop being around you. I just want to be with you all-"

Blaine's lips were on his immediately. Kurt gasped, his hands dug into the duvet by his sides, propping him up from Blaine's weight pressing slowly to him. He felt a hand snake up the side of his neck and tickle the bottom of his hair.

Blaine didn't need to hear anymore, he couldn't listen to anymore because it was too much and far too sweet to stand. He didn't dispute that Kurt meant it all and this was the glowing reason for his inability to keep his hands and lips to himself. Someone cared and someone definitely saw past the constraints that society paints as barriers. Kurt looked into his eyes and saw Blaine, not some faceless preppy guy with money, not the dutiful son destined to follow in his father's footsteps and certainly not the weak teenager bruised by taunts of his past.

Kurt felt himself melt into the touch, his hands now dragging themselves up to clutch at Blaine's sweater, holding tight. He let out a tiny noise of pleasure, his heart beating wildly. It felt exquisite and nothing remotely close to scary. He smiled in the kiss, his head light and stomach blooming with happiness.

Blaine felt the smile. "Scared?"

"Shut up," Kurt snapped playfully, suddenly pressing his lips with more passion and feeling like he really could do anything he wanted now. Blaine wouldn't judge and he certainly would not pressure him – he had to just work on his issues and everything would be perfect.

It was at this moment that Kurt's phone buzzed by his side.

**Incoming! Stop whatever you're... doing and look cool. Finn ;)**

It took a single night for everything to change. Carole had managed to arrange a flight for Blaine the next morning- the day before Christmas Eve- as the snow had let up gradually and returning the airports back to slower but reasonable service. Kurt's heart sunk. Blaine had packed up his belongings, thanked everyone profusely, including even receiving a pat on the back from Burt, and stood by the door waiting to leave.

Carole carefully took Burt's arm, steering him away from the door and into the lounge. Finn mumbled something awkward and wandered off too leaving Kurt alone on the doorstep and nowhere near ready to say goodbye.

"The Hudson-Hummels work fast," Blaine thought out loud with a half smile. He loitered just outside the door way with his bag slung over his shoulder and guitar by his side.

Kurt stared at his feet, his slightly pointed brown suede shoes jabbing into the step at the door. He knew they wouldn't scuff or mark but he had to kick something. "Damn snow stopped," he groaned, keeping his eyes averted.

Blaine smiled, shaking his head affectionately. "Two weeks."

Kurt frowned deep, his face alarmed and in shock. "That's forever."

"Such a drama queen," Blaine teased, his hand reaching to tug the chord hanging from Kurt's jacket. Blaine was lying, of course. No way were the two weeks going to pass quickly, they were going to drag horribly.

"I am still trying to work out exactly what happened last night," Kurt admitted, shaking his head in what Blaine presumed was disbelief, "and now you're leaving."

"Hey," Blaine soothed, moving closer to Kurt and tipping his chin a little. Kurt's added height didn't seem to matter, "we can text and call and Skype too. Once we're back at Dalton, we've got all the time in the world to work things out, ok?"

Kurt leaned into the touch, closing his eyes a little before letting a tiny smile pass his lips. "Ok," he whispered, "doesn't mean I'll miss you any less though."

Blaine's heart swelled a thousand times. He wasn't all that sure he'd been truly missed before. He was fully aware that Burt was only in the other room and no doubt listening intently for any mention of his son's virtue to which he'd crank out his revolver and blow Blaine down the street. It wasn't the time for a kiss so as Burt opened the door with a sharp cough at the sight of his son pressed up against another boy who was fondling his face. Burt did not look particularly comfortable until Carole hugged his shoulder and began to speak.

"Well Blaine sweetie, it has been a pleasure having you here with us. You're welcome anytime," she cooed as Finn appeared behind her.

"Yea Dude, I'll see you at Regionals. We're gonna kick ass," he provoked with a smirk.

"And we'll be ready," Blaine replied. Kurt noticed Blaine's eyes sparkle as he teased his brother. He wanted to capture that image somehow, to keep is sacred so he could look at it whenever he felt alone or in need of something to cheer him up. Blaine was so composed but his tiny details gave away his inner-most secrets.

"Are you sure you don't need a lift to the airport sweetheart, Burt would be glad to drop you," Carole offered, her tone motherly as always.

Blaine signalled to the snow, his countenance the very picture of gratitude. "That's very kind of you but I called a cab and I honestly don't want to put you ouy. You've done more than enough for me this holiday."

It was then that a cab rolled up, timing impeccable much to Kurt's disgust. He'd never felt so irritated by anything in his life; he felt rushed and uncomfortable. He simply wanted to say goodbye to Blaine in his own way, preferably if it involved a long, slow kiss and a bone-crushing hug.

Blaine shifted somewhat awkwardly. "Well, I'm off. Thank you once again for having me and have a wonderful Christmas," he added sincerely with one of the warmest and most charming smiles Kurt was sure his father had ever witnessed. It felt good to be proud to introduce Blaine to his family – he was definitely the type that parents were guaranteed to adore.

As Blaine picked up his guitar, he glanced at Kurt, unsure and a tad frantic. Kurt felt his stomach clench in panic, his throat thickening as he felt tears welling up. It wasn't simply because Blaine was leaving or that it'd be two weeks before they'd see each other again. It lay in the sheer realisation that Blaine had, without a doubt, began to change his life. So much had changed so quickly and had hit him like a freight train in the stomach. The gratitude was overwhelming, causing Kurt to huff out a breath of frustration and throw his arms around Blaine's neck as he walked backwards down the drive.

The other boy laughed, dropping his guitar and hugging his arms around Kurt's waist tightly. "I left a couple of things on your bed for you," Blaine whispered into the embrace as Kurt released him, his eyes regretful and sad.

"Damn you for making me like this," Kurt whined in a petty manner before letting out a laugh, "I hate you."

"What a note to leave on," Blaine scoffed with a roll of his eyes, "I don't think I can stand the romance." With a quick glance towards the door, noticing it was clear and free of obviously understanding family members, Blaine stepped forward and placed a baby kiss on Kurt's cheek.

"Miss you like crazy," Kurt whispered as Blaine leaned back, an apologetic sheen to his eyes. Blaine smoothed down Kurt's jacket, petting it affectionately and glancing up into his eyes, the eyes he knew he shouldn't look into, especially when they looked ready to well up. With a small murmur of 'ditto', Blaine smiled and climbed into the cab.

As the cab drove off down the snow strewn road, Kurt watched until is disappeared, sure of the fact that he was completely and utterly smitten.

"Got the parentals inside. Figured you'd want, you know, time alone," Finn explained as Kurt entered his room again, wiping his eyes a little. It didn't go unnoticed by Finn.

"Thank you," Kurt simply said, unable to really think straight.

"Blaine's nice, dude. He's got that whole 'I'm rich but I'm a good guy' thing goin' on. Think my mom wanted to adopt him."

Kurt had to laugh, it was so true. "You think my Dad's going to lecture me in the morning?"

Finn screwed up his face in thought. "Dunno. Don't think so. Blaine said he loved sports that night you fell asleep and I thought Burt was gonna have another heart attack thing. Guess he didn't think that guys... gay guys liked that kind of thing. They had a full on conversation about it. Think he was safe after that."

As Kurt made his way towards his bed, he noticed a small black box and a small sheet of paper tucked underneath it. Under that was Blaine's chucky knit sweater- the one Kurt couldn't resist Blaine in.

If there was a time for overly dramatic and self indulgent tears, Kurt was sure this was it, but with Finn in the room it was a little difficult. Instead, he lifted the items into his bathroom and sat on the floor with them on his lap.

He unfolded the note and felt his eyes dampen as he read Blaine's loopy writing.

_**Kurt,  
I hope this keeps you warm over the holidays. No labels but it's hand knitted so couture – one of a kind ;)  
Merry Christmas! (yes, only open on Christmas Day!)  
Thank you for turning my life upside down.  
Blaine x**_

Kurt wasn't prepared to wait, needing to see what was inside the box desperately in order to cling onto the way he was feeling- cherished.

He prised open the small velvet clasp. As he peeled away the thin layer of black velvet inside, he felt his hands shake. Inside, placed delicately in the centre, was the large circular blue crystal from the Christmas market. It shone in every direction, the blues melding into greens and, at times, shocking purples. Kurt was crying. He knew it was impossibly pathetic and horribly cliché to be huddled on the floor with his back to the door with tears running down his face but it was unavoidable. He clutched the box to his chest and let himself wallow in the beautiful agony of the moment, knowing that someone actually understood exactly what was inside his heart.

_**NOTES: We ARE going back to Dalton next Chapter so not to worry. There is SOME more to come with home but that's the beginning of the next Chapter and will turn a little angsty (for a short while) so for those who wanted it, you didn't need to worry – it was coming :D Thank you so much for reading this far and enduring my silly habit of writing so in-depth. It means a lot that even ONE person likes it. Hope you all had a wonderful holiday :D**_


	22. Time for Thought

_**I'm keeping the notes to the end of this Chapter as it'll spoil it if I don't ;)  
AGAIN, THANK YOU. Special thanks to JP-Wings for her lovely comments and for those who recently left lots of reviews and are just finding this story now OR have left comments when they don't usually review. Means an AWFUL lot. **_

_**Also – couple of things:  
To anon who wrote about the taxi cab – I hadn't worded it correctly and changed that. I meant that Blaine had ordered one. I may not be all that clued up on American things but I do know that taxi cabs don't roam the suburbs ;) Sorry for the confusion.**_

_**Secondly, to those who commented about Kurt's fears. I mentioned it was very cathartic and I do really REALLY understand how he feels so thank you for commenting on that :D**_

_**Lastly, to those who added me on LJ/Tumblr (same username), HELLO and thank you for dropping by! Nothing THAT exciting there but it's lovely of you to leave messages.**_

_**Also – I read every single review so, believe me when I say it's extremely appreciated. **_

_**This is NOT them going back to Dalton. I know I promised it but things changed and I needed this to happen first. I know I haven't mentioned some things from the previous Chapter but things aren't forgotten. Anyway, I hope you like this one :D**_

Kurt sat on his bed, his favourite faux fur cushion propped at his side, completely snuggled into Blaine's cardigan which swamped him but smelled divine. A copy of Vogue propped on his knee and a stack of interior design magazines at the foot of his bed, he felt strangely content.

"Bro? You gonna throw something at me if I interrupt you again or can I come in?"

Finn approached cautiously, much to Kurt's inner amusement. He really had trained Finn well as a roommate.

"Come in, don't worry, I'll play nice."

Finn smiled happily, plonking himself down on his own bed across the room. "So when I went to Rachel's we talked. We're not getting back together. I'm not ready for that but we talked so I guess that's a good thing, right?"

Kurt settled his magazine by his side and gave Finn his full attention. "It's definitely a good thing. Yea she's irritating and completely self centred but she had a pretty huge heart and I know most of it is reserved for you."

Finn frowned. "You're right," he mused almost blankly, "I just don't feel right. I got used to her always being around and talking and singing and stuff and now she's just ... gone."

Kurt nodded, understanding every word and feeling, quite surprisingly, very sorry for his brother. "Look, why don't you go see if Sam wants to do something or spend some time taking your mind off it?"

Finn looked up with a deep wrinkle in his brow but his large eyes ever naive. "Sam's only sticking around with me because I'm competition and he has this dream of being cool and Puck... he's a douche now that he's made out with both of my girlfriends. Everyone else is all coupled up or not interested," he explained with a sigh, "and the funny thing is, I treated you badly and said that horrible word and threw stuff. All you did was care and I wasn't nice to you, dude. It turns out you're the only one I can talk to."

Kurt felt his throat catch. He climbed off his bed and sat by Finn, placing a cool but reassuring hand on his shoulder. His brother from another mother wasn't a guy of many words and even those weren't usually as eloquent as they could be but Kurt wasn't stupid- he know when the words were honest. Finn smiled despondently but raised his fist and kept it in the air hanging. Kurt shuffled, unsure of what to do, but as he realised, he raised his own smaller fist and pressed it quickly to Finn's. It was hideously awkward.

"We need to work on that dude, brothers need to have a cool handshake."

"KURT!" Mercedes yelled down the phone so loud that it had to be held at arm's length, "oh my god you need to clear your schedule boy because I'm coming over to get you. We're goin' to Mr Schue's. He's lonely and Coach Sylvester arranged something. I think it's some lavish plan to crush us all again because unless she's had a lobotomy, I don't see why she's being so nice, but anyways you just have to come."

Kurt grinned furiously into his phone. "You sure it's ok?"

"Hey Hummel, don't even think you're getting out of this. Britt even asked today if you were coming home soon because she misses your hands... something about lady fingers or whatever. Anyway even Rachel asked me and we all know she thinks of no-one but herself."

Kurt giggled, "Ok, what's the dress code?"

It took a second but Kurt felt as if he was going to burst when he heard the reply. He'd missed this. "Well, whatever you'd wear to console a lonely guy, something Coach Sylvester won't mock which is pretty much nothing, not your bondage shorts because we all know that even Santana understands you're gay but wants you when you wear them. Bring our game because you just know Rachel's gonna want to know every little detail about your new school and the Warblers. Be on guard. Tina has been talking so much about missing you and how she just wants to talk fashion and everyone sucks at it except you so bring Vogue and swatches. Yea and for me, boy, you just need to bring your sweet self."

"Mercy, I love you," he muttered between breathless laughs.

"Right back atcha sweet cheeks."

After explaining to Burt exactly where he was going and assuring him that it was in the presence of adults, Kurt leaped into the air when he saw Mercedes' car pull up and beep twice. He ran down the drive and threw himself at her with a tiny yelp. She laughed and hugged him back, smiling non-stop.

"Ok, you ready for a dose of the crazy?" she asked, her eyes shining.

Kurt took her arm. "Always."

As they pulled up outside of Mr Schue's house, Kurt felt nervous. He wasn't sure if it was because somehow he felt like a different person or that he still couldn't shake a feeling that he'd let them all down but regardless, it wasn't like it used to be... things had changed.

Mercedes grabbed his hand giving it a little squeeze before knocking on the door. Everything was silent for a second before pandemonium broke loose. Kurt had forgotten the noise and how each individual person fought to be heard. Before he knew what was happening, he was crushed in a bear hug by Tina. Brittany tried to hug her way around the two of them, her face pressed close to Kurt's with a sweet smile. Knowing her as he did, he felt touched at her sweetness if a little unnerved by the look in her eye. Kurt managed to break free smiling a little shyly compared to normal. Everyone was grinning and saying how much they'd missed him so ecstatically that he felt his heart grow ten sizes.

They all died down, Britt linking Santana and disappearing through the door followed by Puck pushing Artie. Finn and Mike were talking as they'd hung out together for a few hours previously- Kurt's urging had worked. Kurt was sure he heard something about "Call of Duty" and rolled his eyes.

"So Kurt we need to know everything. Who is this boy I've heard about?" Quinn asked, winking, "he cute?"

Kurt blushed immediately. He was surrounded by his girls, all of them crazy but each he loved for such different reasons. He felt himself in that moment. "Just because you all centre your lives around boys doesn't mean you need to know about my business," he snapped playfully, narrowing his eyes sharply.

"Kurt," Rachel began, her face sure and eyebrows set high, "I for one respect your decision to remain discrete about your romantic life. If there's one thing we've learned this year, that's how fickle love is." Kurt knew her well and didn't miss the ghost of sadness pass her face but she never weakened, she stood tall despite it.

"Yea, fickle when you jump a dude's best friend," Mercedes quipped as Tina nudged her, shushing her immediately.

It was awkward and everyone's issues flooded to the surface immediately and with so much biting honesty. Kurt felt as if he'd returned truly home and revelled in the pain of it all. There was no masking of feelings and certainly no pretending to be someone you're not. It was all very ... well, New Directions.

"Kurt!" Mr Schue called, tipping his head to the side affectionately. If it wasn't for his attempted support and his constant catching up and making up, Kurt would still be angry with his former teacher for his lack of understanding during his tougher years at McKinley, but he wasn't. Mr Schue wasn't a bad guy, he was misguided at times but always tried his best.

"Mr Schue! It's good to see you."

"Aha Porcelain! So, you graced this less than average abode with your presence."

Kurt sighed, shaking his head, as a pillar of striking red with white stripes appeared in front of him.

"Coach Sylvester," he sang back, attempting to remain confident in the face of pure fear.

"So I hear you've found yourself someone to put up with your whining and incessant need for attention. Whoever he is, you can tell him personally from Sue Sylvester that he better have balls. He'll need them to get though," she explained, her voice as sharp as ice. Kurt just nodded, it was all he could do and everybody knew you didn't answer her back. "Furthermore, to protect the world from a legion of diva babies, I shall school you in the art of sexual protection young jedi. Sue knows best."

Kurt would have laughed if he didn't consistently fear his life while in her presence. "O-Ok," he stuttered out, a little stunned.

"Ok indeed. Now, why are we all standing out here when there's a tree to be decorated and some cat wailing to be done? You all like that don't you? The wailing and vocal gymnastics that makes you feel like worthwhile human beings. Go do ... that," she shouted, waving her hand briskly.

As everyone filed into the lounge, Sue grabbed his arm in a shot. "Oh and Porcelain, you getting any trouble at that school for rich kids?"

Kurt shook his head fast. "No Coach, no trouble."

"Ok then, good. If you do just explain to them carefully that one Sue Sylvester will not be responsible for her actions and is more than prepared to remove, with bare hands, their manhood from their person. Understood?" she asked, eyes wide and burning with seriousness.

"Understood."

The night progressed way too quickly for Kurt's liking. He felt himself laughing at certain things more than he'd done before. He'd usually exasperatedly roll his eyes or comment with biting wit but he didn't seem to feel like it. Everyone was so pleased to see him and their support was so strong now. By eleven he'd had an in depth conversation with Tina about the season's winter knits and tailoring and they'd arranged a shopping date before his return to Dalton. As they were finishing off their discussion, the rest of New Directions were setting up Mr Schue's karaoke machine or fighting over a bowl of candy and Rachel sat down by his side.

"Have you secured a solo yet?" she asked, her eyes a little less threatening than usual. She wore one of her trademark outfits again, Kurt noticed, but this time it was Christmas themed – a bold red sweater with a repeated snowman print and a small tartan skirt. He smiled, suddenly finding it endearing instead of a crime against decent fashion.

He grinned appreciatively. "Not yet," he replied simply.

"I think they must be deaf," she muttered with a half smile, "because you're one of the best singers I've ever heard."

Kurt's eyebrows shot up, his face a picture of surprise. "Rachel Berry. Was that a non forced, voluntary heart felt compliment you just gave me?"

She bashfully smiled, her skinny elbow jabbing him in the side. "Well, we're not rivals anymore," she sighed, "and actually that's a shame because I've always believed a healthy competition helps to nurture talent."

"You should be like this more often," he offered with a genuine smile. He couldn't help but feel affection for her in that moment as she had dissolved her mask. Kurt wondered if it was her sadness because of Finn that had stripped her of her high and mighty attitude- either way, it was nice to see her as the real Rachel.

"If I don't shout Kurt, nobody listens," she stated so matter of factly that Kurt felt his heart hurt. She spoke his language so explicitly that it felt scary hearing someone else voice his insecurities.

"Well," he sighed out with a warm smile, ducking to catch her heavy damp eyes, "as you said to me, I think we're more similar that we realise." She laughed out her worries. Kurt noticed how her hair swung prettily and how the red of her jumper made her brown eyes warmer. He wanted to slap himself for feeling so much affection for Rachel Berry, of all people, but he saw himself when he looked in her eyes and somewhere, somewhere deep down, he knew they really understood each other. "Look," he began, standing up fiercely and sitting in his hip, "let us show them all how a killer Christmas ballad is done."

Rachel beamed, bright and much happier than before. The keen sparkle lit in her eyes as she nodded briskly and stood beside him. "We sound incredible together you know?" she stated surely.

"Oh I know Rachel, I know."

After their medley of a haunting version of The Pogue's "The Fairytale of New York", a rather epic and belting "O Holy Night" and a tongue and cheek rendition of "Santa Baby" in which they out diva-ed each other and pranced suggestively around the room – Kurt realised what Finn felt like every time she chased him around the piano. It was a little disconcerting, the sheer passion in her eyes, but he adored how he could spark off her. It was electrifying.

They were treated to a rapturous round of applause from Sue Sylvester too, although she clapped a few times before nodding and disappearing into the kitchen. Kurt wondered what tricks she was playing on Mr Schue that he'd find in a week when he opened his cupboards. Kurt watched as Finn's eyes turned fond and wistful, taking in Rachel bouncing up and down on Kurt's arm. It was obvious he was still completely in love with her.

As the night drew to a close, Kurt just wanted to stop feeling so sad. It was a night, so filled with everything he loved, that he could barely believe how much he'd missed everyone. Yes, they were all screwed up and had a list of issues as long as Rachel Berry's ambition list but Kurt knew that in some odd and ridiculous way that they were kindred spirits. They each knew that no matter what happened and how bad things got, that they were all there and every single person knew exactly how it felt at one time or another, to be misunderstood or alone. They had each other after all.

Kurt watched as Quinn and Sam began a rendition of "White Christmas", their weaker but utterly sweet voices melding nicely. He reached into his pocket as his phone buzzed and felt his heart fizz with happiness when he noticed the particular text was from Blaine. There could have been a million people crammed into Mr Schue's lounge and he wouldn't have noticed at all anymore.

_**Having fun? I got here safe. Sylvie has already made me pancakes. Feel spoiled. How are you? I downloaded Skype when I got here so I'm entering the technological age just for you. I hope you feel special. Hope you're ok. Blaine xx**_

Kurt laughed to himself. Blaine was even a little frantically too eager to care over text. It was so inherently Blaine that Kurt didn't realise he was hugging his phone with puppy dog eyes.

"Sickening," Mercedes hissed to her side, trying to look as if she still found Quinn and Sam endearing.

"This duet?" Kurt asked, snapping himself present.

"No, although they are freakin' charming, I'm talking about you mooning into your phone."

They were whispering now, lowered into the couch. "Mercy, can I tell you something?"

She grinned cheekily, knowing he'd confess to her the truth at some point. "He kissed me."

She squeaked, instantly grabbing Kurt's hand with so much pressure he was sure his fingers would snap. "Down girl," he laughed, his stomach churning a little out of nerves, "so there you go. My first kiss." He tried to downplay it, not accustomed to airing his inner most feelings in the middle of a room full of people.

"How was it? Tell me everything. What did he say? How did it feel? How did you react? Where were you?"

Kurt blushed, his face smattered pink. "I'm kinda crazy about him," he sighed, "he treats me like I'm china or something, which we all know I'm not but it works. I was kinda, erm, well, I was worried about it but he was so amazing."

"You deserve someone to treat you well, to take care of you like you're precious," she cooed, stroking his shoulder and laying her head down as a follow up. Kurt's chest swelled, his shoulders shrugging up as he smiled.

"So do you."

He felt her grin through his shirt. "So is he mega rich? He going to keep you in labels?" she asked with a giggle.

"Oh I seriously hope so," Kurt teased, knowing he'd never ask for a thing as Blaine gave him more than he ever thought he'd find, "but honestly, I really like him Mercy. He's one of those people you dream of, you know?"

She raised her head, smiling into Kurt's eyes. "Well honey, I'm sure he feels exactly the same way about you."

"Blaine darling, come down for a moment would you?"

Blaine was exhausted. The flight was smooth but uncomfortable, his legs felt stiff and shoulders rigid as a board.

"Coming," he called. He took a deep breath and padded downstairs to the smell of pancakes. It was intoxicating how this made him simply want to curl up on her couch lined with the softest pillows and also how polar opposite Sylvie's house was compared to his own home. She lived for antique collectables in a very specific style and littered her walls with old portraits of unknown people or families. She always spoke of the truth lying behind a person's eyes and their smile; she taught him from an early age to never judge. The odd couples or children posing for their photograph to be taken were, to Sylvie, a reminder of humanity and the wonder of individuality. Her interest lay in reading them and their lives from every miniature detail. The deep cream walls inside her cottage were covered with frames, her kitchen was packed tight with ingredients from all-over the world and appliances so varying in colour and style that it would have been reminiscent of a jumble sale had it not been for her impeccable taste, perfect positioning and flair for interior design.

She retained his grandfather's belongings but placed them artistically around the house so as to remind herself of him. He died four years previous from ailments of the heart and it was at this point that Blaine became so much closer to Sylvie than most young guys were with their grandmothers. She saw Blaine for exactly who he was, no questions asked, and they often shared a love of fine things or classic music and movies.

"Now darling," she began, Blaine grinning lovingly at the sound of her overused pet name, "I knew you were coming so I bought extra cinnamon sugar. How many can you manage?"

Blaine smiled coyly, turning to the side and batting his eyelids as he held up three fingers.

She nodded curtly and turned, a ghost of a smirk. "Five it is then," she joked wryly.

They often sat in silence with music or a radio story playing in the background but Blaine could see that she wanted to catch up properly- in her trademark abrupt manner no doubt. He often tried to memorise her mannerisms and how she looked as he missed her terribly after a few months of not seeing her. Her greying curly hair hung loosely by her ears, the rest piled into a haphazard bun which was held with two gold hair pins. She always wore patterns, deeming her body an exercise of self expression. In the sixties, Blaine knew she'd added a tattoo to the back of her neck in the shape of an ornate heart. This was one thing Blaine vehemently admired about her and envied as she'd lived a long and full life in a number of cities-therefore, she'd experienced elements of life that he could only dream of.

"So, how is the school for scoundrels then?" she asked as she cooked.

Blaine scoffed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. The smell of food wasn't helping his need for slumber. "It's as mad as always. I still live with Wes although he spends a lot of nights with his girlfriend Kate or he falls asleep in David's room. I'm still hitting the higher grades in most of my classes except Chem and Physics. It's still very much the same. I've retained my Head of Student Council position too so you will be pleased."

"And The Warblers? I still want that recording Blaine, don't think I have forgotten. I want my neighbour to hear my grandson's wonderful voice because I'm sure, sweetheart, that she thinks I've made you up." She turned, smiling with pursed lips. Blaine knew he'd mail a copy of their cut CD the second he returned to Westerville.

"I'll send it as soon as I get back, I promise. The Warblers are just the same. We're yet to choose our numbers for Regionals but we have so many ideas. We'll no doubt use the New Year Showcase to test out a couple of numbers and to help our new additions settle in. I'll have to audition for a solo once more in the interests of fairness."

"Darling, you know as well as I do that you'll be front and centre stage. You always are and I wouldn't have you any other way. Let me know when your Regionals show is and I'll try to get tickets. So, are these new additions settling in then?" she asked, slowly piling up the newly cooked pancakes onto one of her mismatched plates. She passed them to him and he began to eat in between sentences. Sylvie settled herself into one of the stools at the breakfast nook opposite Blaine and listened as she sipped a small frosted glass of pomegranate juice.

"They're doing, um, ok I think," Blaine replied, his eyes never leaving his plate.

Sylvie watched her grandson intently. "Just, ok?"

Blaine knew his grandmother and knew that if he looked at her and spoke as she stared into her eyes ... she'd _know_ and he'd die of embarrassment.

"Yes, they're fine. They'll settle in just great, in time. You know what I went through to settle into Dalton."

He heard her hum thoughtfully and felt his stomach lurch. Damn.

"Darling I know you all too well and you're avoiding my eyes. What is it? Is there a problem again? Is someone causing you pain like before?" she asked, urging him for an answer.

He glanced up into her eyes, letting his fork clatter to his plate. As he cocked his head to the side, eyes rolling, she smiled slowly.

"Well it's nothing too terrible," she mused thoughtfully, "because your pupils are dilated and your eyes are happy." She took a deep breath, leaning in and pursing her lips as she always did. Her voice clipped and sure, she spoke once more. "Who is he?"

Blaine couldn't help but laugh. "How do you do that?" he asked, hitting the table with his hands in mock protest, "I didn't say anything."

"Well, Blaine my darling, I saw you at no more than an hour old and you're my grandson. My uncanny ability to read people doesn't hurt either. But," she rose her eyebrows, "you've evaded my question sweetheart, who is this boy?"

Blaine took a deep breath and knew he'd never talk this candidly to anyone else in his family except Sylvie, especially not about boys and definitely under no circumstances about Kurt.

"His name is Kurt," he stated, attempting to keep a smile from painting his lips.

"Elaborate," she pushed with a persuasive tilt to her head and left it there, no other words were required.

He frowned a little playfully. "Ok what do you want to know?"

"Age?"

"He's a junior."

"Family?"

"He lives with his father, Burt and Burt's new wife and son Finn. His mom died when he was a little boy."

"Oh dear," she frowned regretfully, "interests?"

"Music, movies, fashion, interior design, singing, musical theatre... do you want more?"

"No darling, I adore him already," she smiled simply but with an air of utter affection, "so now tell me the things you _want_ to say about him. Don't be shy."

Blaine was sure he was blushing but she was right, he didn't need to be shy and he figured it'd be nice to talk about how he felt as he had nobody else who'd understand except maybe Thomas and Wes and David, if he didn't mind being teased and goaded.

"He has pretty eyes," Blaine rushed out, realising how cliché it sounded. His face burned.

"Colour?"

"I honestly can't say. They're sometimes pale blue, sometimes grey, they turn darker when he's angry or frustrated but when he's happy they almost look like opals."

Sylvie smiled gently. "What is he like? Temperament? Personality?"

Blaine laughed out his breath, shaking his head lightly. "He's a force of nature. He is so feisty and full of so much spirit that I somehow can't believe he had so much trouble at his old school. You see, he was like me, he transferred mid-semester and came to Dalton to find peace. Those bullies, the people who taunted him, have made him wary though. He's gentle and caring too and so thoughtful. I don't think many people see that side of him though. He's so funny too and comes out with these one-liners that are just inspired but they're just him through and through. He's an incredible singer too. I haven't heard him sing anywhere near as much as I'd like to but this semester there'll be many more chances so I can't wait to see him impress the rest of the Warblers because I swear he's got a range that most people would die for. He's jus-"

Sylvie placed her hand on Blaine's softly. "It's been a long time since I've seen you like this," she said, her voice laced with tenderness, "you're enamoured. I can see it and hear it. I've always wanted this for you."

Blaine rarely cried. He often felt choked or emotional but he wasn't a natural crier. Sitting in that moment he didn't know if that was true anymore- he wasn't sure he'd ever felt more treasured. "Thank you," he muttered, his brain too fuzzy and throat too thick to speak further.

Sylvie placed her glass in the sink and returned to the table. With a light stroke to Blaine's hair, she kissed his forehead. "I can't wait to meet him."

As she walked away, Blaine felt his chest tighten as a memory flashed shockingly bright in is mind. "Grandmother?" he called. Sylvie sashayed back around.

"Yes my darling?"

"Please don't mention any of this to my mom or dad." He could hear the emphasis in his voice, the pleading to the tone of his words that sounded almost desperate. He hated hearing himself like that but couldn't help it at all. He did not wish for his parents to find out. He knew exactly how they'd act and what they'd do.

"Your secret is entirely safe with me Blaine, you have my word."

Blaine rested back into the downy pillows that Sylvie had positioned at the head of his bed. He glanced around the room at the ornaments and trinkets positioned on gradient positioned shelves and his grandmother's wall mounted postcards and newspaper clippings. It was so comforting to him that he felt five years old all over again.

He had received a few replies from Kurt but had held back, trying to resist keeping up their conversation as he knew Kurt was with his old friends. Blaine simply did not feel right interfering. There was something not sitting right with the night though since he'd entrusted his secret to Sylvie, something awkward tugging at his heart and mind, threatening to chip away at his still solid happiness. He thought of the New Year Showcase and the fact that every parent was invited to see their sons perform. He dreaded it yearly, knowing that his inner sanctum and home, Dalton, was to be visited by his mom and dad. Most kids looked forward to the ability to introduce their parents to their friends and show off their newly acquired talents but Blaine feared and despised it with ferocity. Every year, his mother would hug him firmly and tell him how well he did and how his voice had improved- it was so rigid it felt script-like. He knew she meant it, well aware of her good heart underneath it all, but it was his father he would stress out about, thinking up so many witty and clever lines to say to him in order to impress him. Nothing worked.

Blaine didn't want them there. It wasn't because he didn't love them deep down. It was hard to but he'd learned their ways since birth and was accustomed to them in a way he wasn't sure he should be. It was, however, because they didn't belong in his happy place. They iced the air and pulled his carefree attitude to a rock bottom low. He attempted to fight it every single year, aiming to retain his ease when they came to visit but was never able to. His nerves hit red alert and brain fused in an iron grip at the very second they stepped onto Dalton grounds and never let up until Blaine, as he did yearly, watched their car disappear down the drive.

The thought of their reaction to Kurt was what feared him the most. They wouldn't understand. They wouldn't accept it. They certainly wouldn't be comfortable with Blaine remaining so close to him. It was a risk Blaine was not willing to take.

He needed to talk to someone, knowing Sylvie was asleep and Wes and David were his escapism, he didn't wish for them to be bogged down with his concerns. He found the one person he knew would understand in his phone contacts and hit 'call'.

"Thornton!" Thomas sang down the line, "and to what do I owe this very intense pleasure?"

Blaine laughed and shuffled down in his pillows. It felt immeasurably nice to hear that voice and the unrelenting sarcasm.

"All the better for hearing your voice," Blaine sang back happily, his head rested to the side comfortably.

"You're far too sweet," Thomas cooed, "you know there's no need to be so charming, I'm already under your spell."

"Shut up idiot," he snapped with a giggle, "be serious for a second. How are you?"

They spoke at length about Thomas' relationship and how it wasn't going as 'to plan' as he wished. It had hit a rocky patch instigated by a particularly long distance component. Blaine didn't mention Kurt at first but conversation soon naturally turned to Dalton and Thomas had a memory like an elephant- he never ever forgot.

"You kissed him!" he shouted, "what was all of this 'oh he's not ready' and 'oh no it wouldn't be right Thomas'. So much for 'restrained Blaine'. The first chance you got him alone you snogged his face off!"

Blaine was laughing, trying to speak through the giggles and to protest fiercely, but he simply could not find the breath. "Now listen," he forced out, still chuckling infectiously, "he kissed me first and it was the sweetest thing you've ever seen. I mean Thomas, he was so shy and so cute that it killed me. I honestly lost all ability to form sentences and you know me, I'm pretty eloquent when I want to be. He said goodbye and waltzed out of the door leaving me breathless. I knew he liked me then and you don't kiss someone for the first time if you don't like them and aren't ready."

"So you thought you'd lure him into your grasp again and _THEN_ snog his face off?"

"Will you just listen?" Blaine shouted again, hissing his words in an attempt to muffle their volume. He was achingly aware of Sylvie's presence in the other room. "I didn't do anything of the sort. He saved me at the airport when my flight was grounded. He turned up in the most adorable hat you've ever seen and he had actual rosy cheeks. It was reminiscent of something from a movie and you know how idealistic I am. It felt like I was in a dream. I mean, how can you resist that? He let me stay with his family. We even went to a market in the snow. He snuggles too, did I mention that? I don't think he's ever had anyone to do that with and I'm not complaining. Nobody has ever wanted to snuggle with me, except Wes when he falls ill but we're not counting that. He just pushes himself closer to you and nuzzles his head against me and I die. I never want him to move. Then he wears these sweaters that cling to every curve but he's so slim that it's almost criminal how good he looks. His parents went out for a Christmas meal and left us alone. I swear the intensity dial had been switched to maximum. We couldn't even make hot chocolate without being all close and touching. He's so handsy and I don't even think that's a legitimate word. I sound pathetic right now, but he is. I'm sure he thinks I see him as a kind of gentle flower to be protected and nurtured. I do and I couldn't bear if someone hurt him ever again but then there are certain times when he bites his lip or sidles up to me and I swear Thomas I can't even understand how I hold back."

Blaine took an enormous breath, his hands hot and face smouldering. He'd never talked as fast or as inarticulately much in a long time with every single word firing so quickly and honestly. He felt lighter and bustling inside with excitement and delicious nerves.

"Blaine Blaine Blaine," Thomas sighed out, the amusement ever present in his tone, "you've got quite a situation on your hands. It's much worse than I thought."

"What do you mean? What is?"

"You're head over heels Thornton."

"I know," Blaine sighed, burying his head into his pillow and huffing out the pressure inside, "and it's so inconvenient."

"I have one question though."

"Hit me with it."

"What are you going to do when Monica and Alexander visit for Show Case?"

Blaine groaned, the fear coursing back in. "That's another reason I called. I'm, when all is considered, terrified."

"I'll be there," Thomas spoke seriously, the humour now left behind, "I'm coming and if you need me I'll be there."

"Promise?" Blaine asked, his voice so reminiscent of his younger self. Fearful and small.

"As always Thornton."

_**As a seriously devoted fan of Glee and being from the UK, I watched the first episode an hour after it aired in the US. Being THIS into it, I was worried about writing the other characters. Terrified to be precise! My favourites are Kurt (obviously) ... **_

_**- Blaine - and not because he's Darren Criss, lord I love him it's obvious but I do not see him as Darren, I see him for Blaine. As self righteous and a little too perfect as he seems to be so far, I love his preppiness, his lack of any normal clothes and how mysterious he is... for those who see DARREN when they see Blaine, it's unfortunate. I don't see him as a red vine eating, Harry Potter obsessed – although i do think he'd be a fan – Disney lover. I see him as being a little old fashioned, restrained as a child and having a respect for the finer things in life. I also see him as being pretty cool at times but then utterly clueless the next. I can't wait to learn more about him! **_

_**Brittany, Beiste (because she's a SWEETHEART!), Emma (her wardrobe and mine are synonymous – it's quite terrifying how similar our clothes are!) , Rachel (because she's just such a brilliantly explored character and god bless her, hasn't got a single friend but manages on pure sense of self alone. She's wonderful and so annoying all at once). **_

_**AND, not forgetting, Sue. She's one of the main reasons I absolutely ADORE this show. She's the EPITOMY of ridiculous but then she reveals a whole new and softer side to herself. It's incredible. She's effin' hilarious too so it just works. Writing her SCARED me to death.**_

_**I honestly, and sincerely, HOPE I managed to pull it off even a TEENY bit! I kept Sue short-ish because, well, I couldn't do her justice if I tried. She's too awesome.**_

_**I wanted more Blaine and others seemed to aswell so the timing was perfect. I kind of love Thomas and I hope you like Sylvie. She's so vivid in my mind. **_

_**I have nearly 80 reviews since I posted my last Chapter and am approaching 500. YOU GUYS. FAR FAR FAR TOO KIND! I swear, I began writing this Chapter a few days ago too, on the train and got carried away. This didn't take too long to write- so I thought I'd post another Chapter today BUT there will be a little delay on the next, not too much though. I'll be starting back to professional studies in mid January so I am aiming to have a lot of it written by then as I can't sustain a story through the course. I'm WAY too busy. Not going anywhere though ... promise, the story will be finished properly :D I REALLY hope you like it! (I keep aiming to keep these A/N short- HA. Failing miserably!)**_


	23. Traditions and Admissions

_**Again, THANK YOU. 500 reviews now. Are you TRYING to make me cry with gratitude for your kind words? I know I said there'd be a delay but I caved and already had this pretty much written on the train so...!**_

_**To the person (who shall not be named for specific reasons) – you KNOW who you are – your dirty little secret is safe with me ;) (that made my WEEK!)**_

_**Someone asked me about my name – "happy in chintz" comes from something a friend once said to me. I wear a lot of patterns and old fashioned prints/cuts/styles and my room is a sea of vintage and chintz. She said I'm always happier surrounded by chintz. I remember I was drinking from a Cath Kidston tea cup as she said it and it's SO TRUE. So it stuck ... so there you go, kind interested people :D**_

_**Who knew the word 'snog' would have so many comments. HA! I personally hate the word but HEY if J. K. Rowling can use it flippantly and still get away with it in the US then people must know what it means. **_

_**I'm ATTEMPTING to keep this shorter this time as I ramble FAR too much –ha :D Story of my life. Onto the Chapter – as always ... please enjoy! I seriously think (and I know I say it each time) that this has been my FAVOURITE Chapter to write.**_

Christmas morning as interesting; Kurt realised one very painstaking lesson - that Finn was actually still three years old. The way his face lit up, his hand clutching at his duvet with a smile so wide his face was in danger of cracking. It was frankly enough to force Kurt to throw his very soft and very expensively covered duvet over his face and groan. He loved Christmas really but mornings and Finn were bad enough without dialing up the 'insane' to maximum.

"You are actually red in the face, do you know that?" Kurt whined, throwing Finn a glare in his morning irritant stage. Finn either ignored him or didn't hear over the singing elves in his brain or whatever fuzzy festive nonsense existed between his ears. "Finn?" Kurt said a little louder, "Finn!" Kurt rolled his eyes, tossing the quilt off himself and climbing out of bed. "Finn, look Santa!".

It was all Kurt could do not to laugh at the moment of pure joy that followed. He was sure he'd receive a dead arm later for it but it was somehow, in his pre-coffee grump, the most amusing and satisfying sight to watch Finn's face fall. "You know it's remarkable that you and Brittany never hooked up," Kurt mused with a smirk as he began combing his hair, "I think you'd have made an extraordinary couple."

The morning continued in similar vain. Carole had purchased a Christmas themed jumper for Burt and much to Kurt's amusement and Burt's embarrassment, he was forced to wear it all day long.

"Looking good Dad," Kurt sang, appearing for breakfast in a deep red long sleeved sweater and dark beige fitted pants. Burt frowned back, his face explicitly speaking the words '_don't even start kid, I'm not to be messed with when I'm wearing this'_. Kurt could hear the words in his mind but also knew that his father would have worn a garbage bag over his head happily if it made Carole happy.

After breakfast, Kurt knew it was time for presents. Carole had implemented her tradition of a full and expansive breakfast, much to Finn's joy and Burt had explained the Hummel tradition of eating mince pies as they opened presents with Kurt's favourite Christmas CD crooning in the background. Each took turns opening presents excitedly. Carole sat in her apron with flushed cheeks and Finn positioned himself so close to the Christmas tree the angel felt nervous.

Carole received a bottle of Chanel perfume from Burt. Kurt took pretty much all of the credit inside his head, for her giddy smile and the way she pranced underneath the falling droplets after spraying some in the air. Burt looked as if he might burst before winking pointedly at his son. Kurt knew his dad had added his own concocted present – a pair of brand new cowboy boots for her new line dancing class downtown – and smiled affectionately at Carole's ability to be as gleeful over a pair of tasselled monstrosities as she was over a bottle of the world's most classy fragrance.

Finn received another glorious Christmas sweater, a stack of new computer games and sports tickets. He'd thrown himself at his mom and Burt, hugging them tight. Kurt had decided to stick with the musical theme and has purchased personalised drum sticks with Finn's name engraved.

"Dude," Finn sighed, "these are awesome. Really awesome." Kurt was sure his heart was far too full to fit anything else in but in that moment, he truly felt he had a brother. Even if he was a little dumb, over-excited, lacking a section of his backbone and entirely uncoordinated. He was _Finn_ and Kurt was secretly so pleased at that.

After Burt had opened his stack of new fixtures for his car, a couple of new shirts, a McKinley High football jersey from Finn and a pile of new CDs to play as he worked in his garage, it was Kurt's turn to unwrap.

He knew he had already opened Blaine's and felt bad now that he'd denied himself the joy on Christmas morning, however, he was grateful for his moment alone in the bathroom to himself to collect his thoughts. He'd told Blaine about his mom and her love for crystals and all things pretty and he wasn't sure how Blaine knew that the particular blue crystal had caught his eye but it was truly one of the most thoughtful presents he'd ever been given.

Kurt unhooked his stocking from the fireplace (one which his mom had sewn 'Kurt' into when he was a baby) and settled himself on the couch. Inside, after careful opening, he found a brand new deep blue and white cardigan in thick knit from the G Star Raw Collection he'd coveted for months. He glanced at Carole, who smiled knowingly with a cute shrug of her shoulders, well aware that he'd shown her the article in one of his magazines to simply express his love – he didn't expect one to be bought for him.

"Oh Carole," he cried, jumping up to hug her, "thank you. Honestly."

He sat back down noticing the proud smile that Burt now had fixed on his face. It must have cost a fortune and not to mention the struggle to get hold of one. He could barely contain his love as he dug into his stocking further. Next came a pile of CDs, mostly Broadway recordings and some old and very difficult collections to find. He frowned, confused as to who would buy them. As he read the label ('To Kurt, Merry Festivus Bro, Love Santa/Finn x') he was in shock.

"How?" he asked, struggling to find the words to appreciate the brilliance of the gift.

Finn laughed. "It might have been a lot to do with Rachel but I picked out some," he explained, lifting one from the pile and presenting it proudly.

"Finn these are great, really great. Thank you so much."

Amongst the rest of his presents was another scarf to add to his collection, a subscription to Vogue for the year, a new lamp for his room which Burt had gone into serious lengths to explain as it was noise operated and a brand new set of stylish notepads and pens.

"Don't want your school thinking we're cheap," Burt explained with a sure nod. Carole rubbed his shoulder lovingly.

Kurt was glad then. He was pleased he had opened Blaine's gift previous to the day in question as he was sure that with this much love and happiness, he would have been completely unable to function with more.

As the presents were stacked to one side, Kurt enforced his tradition of having "White Christmas" playing in the background as they prepared food – the movie spelled 'festive' to him. Finn groaned a little as he wanted The Muppet's Christmas Carol but a compromise was made and it was the next movie in the long list. Kurt took charge of Buck's Fizz and champagne, dusting off his own personal collection of crystal glasses which he stored under his bed for such moments. Carole giggled, nudging Kurt's shoulder and clinking her glass to his.

"It's like Sex and the City," she sang happily, sipping playfully.

The meal was beautiful and eaten much too quickly. As they cleared up, Finn being pulled by a mysterious invisible thread into the lounge in desperation – he wanted to lay down, Kurt knew he had to contact Blaine.

He grabbed his phone and made his way down to his room as Burt flopped down onto the sofa. Kurt knew his dad and was sure that he wouldn't get past the opening credits of the cute Dickens remake before he was snoring loudly.

Kurt felt his stomach knot as he dialled Blaine's number. It was strange as it hadn't been too long since Blaine was sitting in the same spot, his hands on Kurt's cheek and lips not far behind, but it was almost as if it were a dream. It had ended so quickly.

"Kurt?"

"Hi!"

"Oh wow, Merry Christmas," Blaine replied, a smile evident in his voice, "how has your morning been? Have you opened your presents? Have you had lunch?"

Kurt grinned fondly, shuffling onto his bed for comfort. "Ok, one at a time," he urged cheekily. He heard Blaine laugh on the other end.

"Sorry. Ok. How are you?"

"I'm very good thank you."

"Have you opened your presents?"

"I have," Kurt began, not really knowing where to start, "and Blaine, I don't really know what to say."

He heard a gasp of breath down the line. "Oh god Kurt, did I overstep the line? I know your mom used to collect them and saw you and your face at the-"

"Blaine. Shut up," he urged, closing his eyes to cherish the utter sweetness that was Blaine Thornton, "I don't know what to say because I've never ever been given a gift as amazing as that. I didn't know you'd seen me admiring the shiny things."

Blaine chuckled. "Well, you did say it was a tradition but I didn't have the heart to drag you away and when I saw your face I knew you were happy so..."

"Blaine," Kurt sighed, his heart fluttering gorgeously, "thank you so much. I know... I really know that my mom would have loved it." His voice broke at the last word, his hand finding his cheek and resting there in case any tears escaped.

Silence reigned for a few precious moments. "I wish I was there," Blaine whispered.

"I wish you were here too."

Blaine's heart clenched, his other hand reaching up to hold his phone too in an odd attempt to transfer his need to wrap his arms around Kurt, down the line. "I'm so happy you like it though."

"I love it. Truly," Kurt added, his voice thick with emotion, "anyway," he coughed, "how has your morning been? I need to wish you a Merry Christmas too."

Blaine glanced around the room, breathing in deep as the smell of Sylvie's culinary creations hung in the air, tempting him. She'd lit the log fire, Blaine had opted for his own personal Christmas movie classic 'It's a Wonderful Life' playing in the background and a small plate of freshly baked mince pies sat cooling on a rack in the kitchen.

"I'm in Christmas heaven Kurt. You'd love it here, I wish I could show you."

"Did you open _your_ presents then?" Kurt asked.

"Not yet. We always do them once Sylvie gets home from visiting her friend who has been sick for some years now. It's my job to help out with some of the food while she's gone so I have been the model grandson this morning."

Kurt scoffed. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

They continued to discuss the events of their requisite Christmas mornings. Kurt filled Blaine in on Finn's digression into childhood, Blaine had obeyed and described every tiny detail of Sylvie's home even down to the icicles hanging from the guttering outside the door. Blaine had positioned himself on the floor, his back against the couch, and was warming by the fire. He sighed contentedly, but noticed a strange feeling of new experiences wash over him. He hadn't had anyone special to call at Christmas before and it felt monumental.

"Oh Blaine I have to go," Kurt said suddenly, "Carole's shouting about some sort of tournament. I fear for my life if it's anything other than board games. I don't think my fragile frame can deal with contact sport other than kicking."

Blaine laughed loudly. "I have no doubt you could collectively kick their asses."

Kurt's eyes widened. "I have never heard you cuss... ever," his voice laced with wonder.

"Yea, it's rare for me but the moment called for it."

Kurt chuckled, highly amused. "I think it's kind of sexy actually." The blush rose immediately but it didn't matter, he felt entitled to say it even though his heart almost stopped waiting for Blaine's reaction.

"Noted," was the reply, low and far too flirty for Kurt's heart to stand.

Blaine grinned wildly, his hand raising his phone to his forehead to tap it with delicious frustration that he couldn't see Kurt speak those words.

"Ok, Blaine I really need to go. I'm so sorry. Enjoy your day and text me once you open your gift."

Blaine was confused. "What gift?"

"Look in your bag," Kurt called abruptly, "and I'll text later, ok? I miss you. Bye!"

Blaine just laughed, shaking his head against the cushions behind him. He slowly placed his phone on the carpet and padded up the stairs to his room. Once he'd located his bag, he exhaled deeply with a smile. Inside, buried at the bottom, was a small parcel in sparkling red wrapping paper tied tightly and stylishly with a gold bow.

Blaine couldn't wait. He peeled away the covering and felt his hand cover his face when he saw what was inside. A small gold box held a coffee collar inked with a phone number. Blaine recognised it as his own handwriting and shook his head in amazement as he realised it was the same collar that he'd used for Kurt's Latte on the first day they'd met. It was too perfect a gift for Blaine to process until he saw that there was an envelope underneath. He pulled it out and read loud the printed letters on the underside.

"This entitles Blaine Thornton to a single day's usage of studio time." His forehead wrinkled into a frown as he read further in disbelief. Kurt had not only bought him time in a recording studio, he'd bought him a copy of whatever was recorded on the day in question too.

Blaine dropped the presents and simply sat in shock. There was no conceivable way to sum up his feelings. He was sure he would explode if he tried so he focused on regulating his breathing and the enormous smile that had fixed itself solid. He wanted to jump up and down, shout, throw stuff and generally go crazy as the feeling inside was too much, too intense and far too wonderful to believe.

He knew exactly what he wanted to say. He was sure of it but he had to wait. The text back stated simply:

_**I opened my gift. I can't belittle it with a response by text, it's too wonderful. I need to thank you in person. Blaine x**_

_**-.-.-.-.-.-.-**_

"Are you sure you have everything?" Carole asked for the hundredth time, her hands on her hips as she stood by the car, the expanse of Dalton Academy behind her.

Burt laughed, ruffling Kurt's hair. "So kiddo, back to the grindstone. You going to be ok?"

In amongst levelling his uniform collar and patting his hair neat again, Kurt smiled, his heart leaping in his chest at the prospect of what was to come. "I'm going to be fine dad. Honestly."

Carole stood at her husband's side, laying a hand on his arm. "You know if you need us, we're here anytime."

"I do," Kurt replied, his lips pursed into a pout, showing his appreciation.

"Ok then," Burt said with a slap to Kurt's shoulder, "I won't hover. See I'm learning."

Kurt smiled and reached up to hug his dad tightly. "Thank you for our Christmas."

As he waved goodbye to his father's urging to 'be careful', his bags already inside and being taken up to his room along with Pavarotti. Kurt watched as their car drove off and rubbed his palms on his trousers. His breath caught every second with excitement and nerves.

He took a breath and began to lift his satchel over his shoulder but as he went to turn, he heard the gravel rustle behind him.

"Ahhhhh as if it isn't the new kid" Kurt snapped around to face the noise.

Wes stood, kicking the ground below him, a smirk painted on his face. David lingered beside him with a wide smile. "We knew we were missing a Warbler. You took your time, didn't you?"

"We were all set to send out a search party," David said seriously.

Kurt shook his head and let out a laugh. "Happy New Year to you both too and I thought you were going to drop the 'new kid' thing?"

Wes threw his arm around David's shoulders. "Well we discussed this didn't we David and we decided that until someone else becomes 'new', it's not technically correct for you to lose that title."

"That and the fact they're immature idiots with nothing better to do."

Kurt's eyes widened instantly at the sound of a new and very recognisable voice coming from a figure appearing at Wes' side. "Blaine!"

It took approximately seven steps and a small leap and Kurt threw his arms around Blaine's neck, pressing his nose into his scarf and holding on as tight as possible. Blaine screwed his eyes shut, his heart dancing in his chest and beating in his fingertips. He pulled Kurt tighter noticing immediately how nice he smelled.

"I missed you so so much," Kurt mumbled into material, the vibrations sending Blaine a little crazy.

Blaine squeezed tighter. "Before anything, about the gift, it's incredible" he said, his deep breath stuttering with a mixture of emotion and nerves. He paused for a second, Kurt feeling him nuzzle closer. "I couldn't love anything more. I mean it."

Kurt leaned back, his face pink and glowing. Blaine felt his head shake in bewilderment at how insanely he'd missed the boy in front of him. He didn't think it was possible to miss someone so much.

"You loved it?" Kurt asked with eyes wide and glittering.

Blaine took a breath, his trademark smirk teasing at his lips to mask his jittery nerves. "I wasn't talking about the gift."

_**Shameless isn't it? I mean, it's worrying that my brain contains this much fluff – don't worry though – this is NOT me rushing things. I promise this has a point and isn't a needless and rushed half admission.**_

_**I honestly cried writing the phone call. I have NO idea what it was but I was so teary... It was when I wrote "I know... I really know my mom would have loved it." So weird crying as you write but it GOT me! Yikes...**_

_**You wanna know how long those damn presents took me to think of? Jeez, I was sure someone on the train thought I was mental as I kept frowning at my Blackberry – ha! Hope they fit the characters...!**_

_**Ok, so to AVOID any confusion RE: Americanisms... I'll explain a couple to pre-empt them. I'm sorry if these are already known, I just don't want them ruin the enjoyment of the chapter.  
Cardigan = sweater with buttons (sure you guys know that but my American friend didn't!)  
Buck's Fizz = Champagne and Orange drink traditional around Christmas – popular for teens at Xmas parties  
Any others are purely accidental and hopefully very minor.**_

_**The delay will be after this one. Nothing major, there just won't be one as quick as every night but I'll post asap and then resume regular posting after that until I start back with my course. : )**_


	24. Old Wounds

_**Firstly, over 500 reviews. You guys are just wonderful. I swear, some of your comments blow my mind. To all of the new people who have just caught up – I'm sorry for being a factor in your insomnia and for causing you to break all of your rules ;)**_

_**I don't really write fan fiction normally and DO understand all of you who say you vowed never to read/write it. I write short stories and write legal analysis for a living so something I've always loved is writing creatively. It's an escape for me and it's been a hobby I've had for a long time. I only write if I can relate to a character and get inside their head. I just have SO much empathy with Kurt and Blaine FASCINATES me so I thought I'd give it a go. NEVER thought people would like it, let along love it. I'm very touched, as always.**_

_**So ANYWAY, here's your new Chapter! A few things to say before you read, because I'm keeping most of my notes for the end so as not to spoil things.**_

_**Yes, it gets a little angsty. Blaine's not perfect and I NEVER wanted to portray that totally. I think he tries to be and honestly, he's a pretty damn lovely guy but I think, in my interpretation of him, that he tries so hard and is very much a solidified person to be AS unwavering as he seems. He tries so hard for a reason and is a product of his past. I wanted to explore his past with my own ideas. SO, the angst was always going to come and I ALWAYS intended to write this. I PROMISE you though, it is ALL very necessary. No two people like these two, so troubled by their experiences, fall into a perfect and wonderful teenage romance immediately... not realistic in my view. **_

_**I also have an American beta now. It's my wonderful friend from the US who goes by the screen name 'traciamc'. She's brilliant and has agreed to look over each chapter so I can avoid the problem I've faced in the past! So, thanks a million Traci :D**_

_**Right, down to the Chapter. Maybe have something fluffy to cuddle... ;)**_

"Um," Kurt gasped, standing back from Blaine, mouth gaping.

Blaine could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest. He hadn't said it. He couldn't have. He meant it but not that quickly. He just wanted Kurt to know that he cared and how much he meant. It was too soon. Far too soon and not in the right circumstances – not when the week ahead would change everything anyway.

"I mean," Blaine stuttered, "that, erm, I just wanted..."He folded his arms tight across his chest and looked away.

Kurt's face flushed scarlet. He felt the tight awkward feeling in his stomach twist. He wasn't all too sure if he'd heard Blaine right- surely not. He just stood there, looking, his brain rushing full of conflicting emotions. He wanted to hear the words but he wasn't sure he was ready for them. Blaine hadn't said it explicitly but he'd implied it and it was as good as. Kurt could feel his eyes prickle. He glanced at his feet, shuffling slightly before staring expectantly at Blaine who didn't receive his gaze. It was a shock, a dull pain in his stomach. Blaine was unsure and retreating away from him and he couldn't bear to watch. He didn't understand but certainly didn't want to stick around to find out why their reunion had turned to painfully sour.

David shot Wes a pained look, his brow wrinkled deep. "Do something," he hissed to Wes quietly.

Wes blinked rapidly. "So new kid, how bout we help you get settled in? Pavarotti's probably having a mini freak out. I'm sure I saw one of the Porters haul him up to your room and knock over his seed."

Kurt glanced away from Blaine and nodded, his head twitching oddly. "Erm, ok." Fighting back tears he lifted his case over his shoulder.

Wes grabbed his arm, pulling David along with them towards the entrance leaving Blaine, eyes screwed shut, scolding himself for being so damn cruel and rash.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Blaine fell onto his bed. Wes was moved back in, their situation as roommates reinstated.

"Well that was awkward," Wes mused perching on the end of his desk and tilting his head on the right questioningly, "want to talk about it?"

Blaine rolled stiffly onto his front and groaned into his pillow. "No Wes, no I don't." He felt his throat catch and balled his hand into a fist of duvet. It wasn't fair.

"Well Thornton you were like a kid at Christmas when we told you Kurt had pulled up and we all know you two got it on over Christmas. Your little reunion was sickeningly cute so why the ice queen routine?"

Blaine groaned again, hating being reminded of how he'd just acted. "I was impulsive and stupid." He let the numbness take over and control his entire body. He welcomed it, needing it, as anything was better than facing the truth.

"Kurt looked like a kicked puppy. It's not a good look on the kid. I wanted to pat his head and reassure him that Blaine was just being an asshole because... well, I lose inspiration there."

Blaine sat up, rubbing his eyes. "I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have implied that I... I mean, that I feel that way about him because it's not fair on him." He felt sick. He wasn't about to push their situation past the point of no return only for Kurt to have his hopes shattered. Kurt deserved way more than that.

"Oh no, nobody wants to be told that someone loves them. Horrible horrible thing to say," Wes teased with bewildered eyes, "you going to tell me the real reason?"

"No."

"Would you tell David the real reason?"

Blaine sighed roughly, burying his head once more. "No because he'd just tell you."

"What are you going to do?"

"Throw myself off the clock tower."

Wes shook his head, walking to sit on Blaine's bed. They'd been close long enough for Wes to understand the way his friend worked and to understand that he wasn't a sharer unless he felt at ease and ready to impart the information. If it was serious, Blaine would bottle it up and wrap his emotions in on themselves deep inside until they took root. There was only one person he could think of to help.

"Ok, I'm not letting this rest. This whole day has gone from a scene reminiscent of a Tom Hanks movie to angst central. I know you bro, I know when there's something up and there is definitely something up right now but I'll leave you to wallow in your own self-pity until you're ready to let me help. We'll be down in the commons rehearsing for the Show Case, ok?"

Blaine mumbled something incoherent and turned on his side. He knew he was behaving like a petulant child but his heart hurt and Wes was not the person to lighten it. He just wouldn't understand.

He felt Wes pat his shoulder and leave. As he glanced around the room to check he was gone, he felt his eyes burn. He covered his face with his hands and sighed so hard that his head hurt. He could feel his temples pulse the way they always used to- it wasn't supposed to be that way. He shook his head and grabbed a fist full of the duvet once again. He couldn't control it but knew one thing and one thing so surely – he could not let Kurt get hurt. It was as if his old fears and worries reared their ugly heads, tugging at his newly warmed heart and threatened to ice it over again.

His phone buzzed by his side. He slammed his eyes closed, hoping it wasn't Kurt, and felt his heart skip when Thomas' name appeared.

"Hi," Blaine stated, flat and cold.

"Oh wow nice to talk to you too. What's up?"

"Where are you?" Blaine asked quickly, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"On my way to Dalton, Dad wanted me to sit in on a couple of meetings with him. Got a day off from classes. Why?"

"Would you come up when you get here? Please?"

He heard Thomas's car rev on the other end and knew that he would be able to work through everything soon. It'd be ok. "Course. See you soon."

After they hung up, Blaine changed out of his uniform, knowing he didn't have any more classes to endure. He was grateful for the chance to think and mull over his epic mistake. He needed to make it up to Kurt, to be able to explain before tomorrow, before his parents arrived and he went Jekyll and Hyde on everyone. He felt the anger bubble and thought back to his first few weeks in Dalton. Thomas had never failed to respond to his texts or phone calls, always by his side if he needed him. Blaine almost jumped out of his thoughts as he heard a knock on his door.

He slowly ease it open, heart hammering. Thomas smiled, lopsided and understanding, his trademark blonde hair perfectly styled and deep blue trench coat slug over his shoulder in the same way he'd worn it back when Blaine had first arrived. He was going to cry. He knew he would just let everything out if he started to speak – he'd lose his cool entirely.

Thomas didn't speak, instead shrugged off his coat and sat down on Blaine's bed. He patted the duvet close to him and Blaine obliged, taking the spot and sighing into his hands. He felt Thomas place a warm hand on his back and rub in small circular motions.

"I freaked out," he said simply, keeping his words short to stop the tears.

"Kurt?" Thomas asked plainly, his voice laced with comfort. Blaine nodded and folded in further on his arms. He just wanted to hide his face and try to avoid the inevitable. "What happened?"

Blaine couldn't speak. He didn't want to make his mouth move and start his tirade of misery because he knew it'd open up the flood gates. He'd never stop. "Said things. Took them back."

Thomas sighed. He glanced down at Blaine hunched in on himself, his trademark curls unruly and shirt crinkled. He wasn't on his game. "Gotcha. You're really upset aren't you?" Blaine nodded into his fingers. Thomas felt his stomach clench the way it always had when Blaine was sad. He saw himself in him and had ever since they'd first met, consequently, whenever Blaine felt pain, he'd usually gone back there himself and felt it for him. "Come here," he soothed, pulling Blaine to him and laying his head on top of Blaine's curls, "I'm going to presume this is about Monica and Alexander arriving tomorrow. Let me guess, Kurt got back and you took one look at him knowing you'd have to turn it all off and shut down when the parents stepped on Dalton turf?" Blaine nodded into Thomas' chest.

"I hurt him."

"Blaine, look, I know you and it was a week or so ago that you were waxing lyrical about his eyes and the fact you couldn't keep your hands off each other. That doesn't stop."

"Said I love him. Kind of."

Thomas blew out a 'wow' through pursed lips and smiled into Blaine's curls. "And do you?"

"Think I might. I definitely could." Blaine felt Thomas' lips curve into his hair and pushed himself closer. He knew he understood, he always had. He needed someone to understand how much he hated his father for what he'd laid down and how vehemently he craved for his mother to just speak honestly and accept her son with the warmth a mother should show – she never spoke up against Alexander, never. He needed someone to keep hold of his hand. He needed someone to keep him upright and to support him before he crumbled again like before. He needed someone strong to never let him go back there. He desperately wanted to fight to keep himself in the place he'd created, as the person he'd learned to be.

"That's amazing Thornton," Thomas spoke, his arm pulling tighter, "but you need to stop this right now. You need to stop letting them do this to you. I've been there, I know how it feels, you know I do but you're nearly there. You're only a couple of years off eighteen and you don't need to answer to them then. In the meantime, you do what makes you happy. Ok? They can't begrudge you happiness and if they try, you stop them. Do what you did before. Fight."

Blaine cried then. He didn't let it show. He simply caved into Thomas's chest and rested there, his eyes pressed into the warm cashmere, darkening the material and watching it seep through. Thomas didn't speak anymore, he didn't need to, but instead he rubbed relaxing patterns on Blaine's shoulders. He was there. It was enough.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Kurt threw his satchel across the room and lifted Pavarotti down from his desk where the porter had left him. His eyes were damp and a single lock of hair fell in his eyes. He didn't move it.

He reached out and pushed the tiny swing he'd bought the bird for Christmas. Pavi tweeted, hopping to Kurt's finger and letting his beak scrape gently over the surface. Kurt was sure tears would come but they fought under the surface, shock and devastation reigning control over him now.

"He couldn't look at me Pavi. He looked away and didn't mean it. Maybe he freaked out and realised he was wrong. Maybe he doesn't want anything serious. Maybe he's just not ready to take on someone like me. Maybe he doesn't want to be seen in front of other Warblers. I don't know what happened but he said something really sweet Pavi and I felt like my heart was going to burst then he just shut off. He went cold and I... I can't stand to see him like that. It's not Blaine. He's always so... he's..."

Kurt sighed, his eyes brimming with moisture. He wiped them, telling himself to stop being so dramatic. Blaine hadn't made him any promises and certainly hadn't declared they were boyfriends or anything. He'd been impossibly sweet and wonderful, he'd given him a mind-blowing first kiss and he'd been so thoughtful and romantic but there was nothing concrete there to pin point a justification for Kurt giving him his heart. He was ready to, despite his fears and trepidation, he was so desperate to be loved by someone and to love them back but it was as if a neon flashing sign hung above his head declaring reality. He'd been so stupid and idealistic to think that he could come back to Dalton and possibly have his first real 'first date', hold someone's hand for the first time, share more spine-tingling kisses, have someone to wish goodnight and to experience an actual relationship. He was stupid, so misguided and stupid.

"Hey Kurt?"

He looked up to see David at his door. David was sweet, Kurt found him endearingly dorky and his relationship with Wes utterly charming, if a little weird, but he wasn't one to come and visit alone.

"Come in," Kurt urged, wiping his eyes furiously as he turned his head, "to what do I owe the pleasure, David?" He tried to channel his inner confidence and act as normal as possible.

"Well," the other boy began, a little awkwardly, "I didn't know if Blaine had told you about the Showcase?" Kurt's face said it all, he had no idea. David continued. "Oh right, nobody has. Well, it's kind of a big deal for us Warblers. Our parents come and the entire faculty and teaching staff attend as well as the governors and those who fund us. It's a showcase of the talent in Dalton and is our opportunity to represent the Academy to depict the talent a school like ours can offer and achieve."

Kurt could hear the geek in David take hold. He was a walking pamphlet. "By Warblers, does this mean me too?"

David nodded with a hint of a smile. "Yes, it does. We know you gave it a go last time but we wanted to know if you'd like to take a solo spot. It's not Regionals or anything so it's a little more relaxed. You choose your own number and we can even help you put together an arrangement or find accompaniment as the school bands play too. There's story and poetry reading, dramatic performances, exhibitions and sports on show too. It's usually a great day and I guess you could see it as another opportunity to show us what you can do."

Kurt's eyes were wide, taking everything in. "When do I have to finalise my solo?"

He watched as David's eyes evaded his own. "Ah that's almost the problem, the showcase is tomorrow evening. It usually falls on the second week back but Principal Masters has been in meetings all day with governors and bodies who fund this school. Money is tight and it's important apparently that something is done sooner rather than later. The Showcase is a big deal to really prove the worth of Dalton to young men and he has brought the date forward. It may mean a few parents can't attend but most are always willing to try their best to get here. It's a nice chance for us to show off a bit."

Kurt bit his lip. He knew his father and Carole wouldn't be able to attend at such short notice but wondered if anyone would be able to cheer him on. He wanted the ability to prove himself and had intended to blow The Warblers away in the new year anyway. This was an opportunity being laid at his feet which was ideal for exactly that. His mind wandered to Blaine, reminding him again of his being upset. He wondered why Blaine hadn't said anything. It was all becoming very apparent that maybe he didn't know Blaine was well as he thought he did.

"I'm in," Kurt stated, shuddering slightly at the enormity of his decision. He wanted Blaine so much. He wanted to practise with him, to get excited with him and share their talents but he felt the fear slide back in, tugging at his chest and telling him how unlikely that would be now.

David beamed back at him, hopping, as usual, on the balls of his feet. "Great, oh that's amazing. I'll let the rest of The Warblers know that you're on board. We have a rehearsal tomorrow lunchtime. I'm afraid you'll have to act quickly as many of us have been for a few days now and have started to finalise our numbers but we know you'll be able to pull it off." With that, David nodded, seeming to reassure himself he'd done his duty, and exited.

Kurt felt ill. He nodded stiffly and forced a smile. Had had twenty four hours to find a song, learn it, recite it to memory and to make it good- more than good. He had to find a musician or the appropriate music to act as backing. A certain person came to mind.

He located his phone and took a deep breath, steadying his nerves and wiping his unruly damp eyes.

"Kurt!" came the high-pitched voice on the other end.

"Hi Rachel, I'm sorry to call out of the blue."

She gasped on the other end of the line. "Oh no, I'm in the ladies room practising. Mr Schue gave us a task to deliver a solo to show our hopes for the new year. I have a perfect number already in my arsenal so I am revising it alone."

Kurt's heart hurt for her. He got it. She was usually alone and fiercely sure of her own talent even though she rarely got the recognition she so genuinely deserved. "I wondered if you could help me. I have another solo for-"

"Regionals? Is this for Regionals?"

"No, it's nothing competitive. I wouldn't tell you if it was," he joked and smiled as she laughed shrilly through the line, "it's actually for a Showcase of talent. I just have twenty four hours and my day has been less than pleasant so I wondered if you'd maybe be able to-"

"I can definitely help Kurt. We need to discuss your emotional intentions and what you want this song to say."

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. She was highly nauseating but somehow she spoke his language and was one of the only people he'd ever met who really understood him. He wasn't all that sure what he'd be like without her in his life- she was tedious to let in but it was almost painful to let her go. He felt for Finn, he really did.

"Ok," he agreed, "is it ok to call you later?"

"Certainly. We'll talk ideas then."

They hung up; Kurt's heart felt a little lighter. He surveyed his room and knew its emptiness and the cold and damp air was not going to help his mood. He began by unpacking and making up his bed. It took an hour and a half to return it to its previous state as Kurt had thrown himself into the decorating in an attempt to clear his mind or push out the niggling feeling that proved only capable of making him want to cry.

As he dug in his bag for his iPod, his fingers brushed velvet. He lost his fight at that point. He pulled out the small box and teased it open, feeling his eyes water and stomach churn. With a shaking hand he threaded the crystal with string and glanced towards his window where Blaine had hung his mother's clear set in a gradient. He began to cry, his knuckles white as he clung to the cool glass in his hand in the hope that he could channel strength from somewhere- from her. He wished someone was near so he could reach out and just ask for a cuddle or for them to only listen. The desk chair didn't take much moving in order for him to balance on it and loop the string around his curtain pole. He could barely see for the tears pooling along his eyelashes and running down his cheeks in hot tracks.

Climbing down and watching as the dusky light hit the blue nuances, glittering patterns across the curtains, he knew he couldn't bear feeling so confused and clueless in relation to matters of the heart. It always happened. It was as if the world conspired to make him fall for the wrong people- but Blaine wasn't wrong. He was perfect and wonderful. He had also stared at him blankly and looked away in... disgust? regret? disappointment? Whatever feeling it was, Kurt was sure that Blaine was having second thoughts.

Pavarotti tweeted loudly then, hopping wildly around his cage. Kurt turned to see him pecking furiously at his newly hung millet. He tossed the shells this way and that, shaking his head and letting out the loudest squawks Kurt was sure he'd ever made. He seemed frustrated.

With a glance back at his crystal spinning on its string, Kurt took a long slow breath and decided to take control. Over a week ago he'd been so sure that he was ready to fall head over heels in love, over a week ago he'd been pressed so wonderfully close to Blaine and could feel his heartbeat echo through is own body, over a week ago he'd been sure he'd return to Dalton and have an actual real life boyfriend. He'd been happy and now, standing watching Pavi fluff his feathers roughly feeling his tears run off his chin and onto his shirt, he had to find out what the hell went so wrong.

He pulled off his blazer and tossed it on his bed. His fingers were cold, his legs shook and he swallowed his nerves thickly. It was going to hurt like hell but, like a band aid, he would end it now. He wasn't going to endure the unknown anymore. He'd had enough of feeling so unhinged and desperately clinging to any strength he had left.

As he made his way to Blaine's room, he could see the thin glowing strip of light to the side of his door that signalled he was still awake and inside. Kurt felt his head reel. Breathing was difficult was he stepped closer. He was stopped in his tracks by a voice inside that was inherently not Blaine.

"He wouldn't take you out of Dalton, he couldn't Blaine. This is where you belong now."

"He could. You know he could."

Kurt's hand flew to his mouth to stop any inevitable noise that threatened his lips. Blaine's words were choked and unsure. It was as if he'd been crying as each word was followed by a sniff. He felt his heart speed up, unsure if it was a conversation he should be listening in on but realising he didn't care. If Blaine was in trouble, he wanted to help. He peeked at the corner of the door, a figure coming into his line of vision that, with a slight gasp, Kurt realised was Thomas. He was leaning against the wall beside Blaine's bed. Kurt stood on his tip toes, his chest washing with nerves of being caught, and had to swallow a sob as Blaine lay against Thomas' chest. Kurt could see his eyes were a little red and noticed his demeanour- he was submissive and looked almost child-like curled against Thomas' wide shoulders and strong arms. Kurt remained still, aching to crawl up beside Blaine and hug him tight.

"There are things that could be done Blaine. We know that. It's been a long time and you don't know how they could have changed. We know he didn't like the idea of you making your sexuality known but he can't choose for you."

"He did though. I can't remain here if he knows that people know I'm gay, let alone that I'm acting on it. You know the way he treated you."

Kurt watched as Thomas tugged Blaine to him, his nose burying in Blaine's curls lovingly. "I know. He hates me. I couldn't care less Thornton. He's scared and ignorant. He was so sure I subverted his little boy's future and made you ... how did he put it?"

"Forget I was a man."

Kurt cried silent and hard. He couldn't believe what he was witnessing. It was as if he was watching a movie play out on a screen not in real-life. Blaine was so unwavering and solid, he was tactile, affectionate, confident and proud – he wasn't frightened or belittled. Kurt could see the way Thomas held onto him, the way he'd rub Blaine's shoulder and tighten his grip and knew that he was interrupting a moment that was extremely personal. He felt his chest shudder horribly as tears choked their way out. Before he could turn, he heard his own name making him stop in his tracks.

"You know you can't let Kurt make up his own reasons for the way you changed suddenly. You need to explain to him or at the very least let him know that your feelings haven't changed. It's one day and it'll be over."

"He's always there reminding me though Tom."

"You're pretty damn wonderful Thornton. I've always told you that. People here love you and we're not letting you go just because your father doesn't want his precious business and family name tainted by a son who just happens to be attracted to other men. He's a coward. You're not."

Kurt watched Blaine tug at Thomas' sweater and press his face into the boy's chest. "I can't let him treat Kurt the way he treated you. I can't sit and watch that. I'll say something and fight back. It'll take a few hours and I'll be out of here. He won't let me stay, he made that very clear."

Thomas' arm wrapped itself around Blaine's waist and held tight. Kurt saw him close his eyes as his head shook in obvious anger but relaxed in order to place a strong and protective kiss into Blaine's hair. Kurt couldn't control his sobs, he felt his arms wrap around his middle and before he knew it he was running back to his room and slamming the door behind him.

_**Notes:  
So ... I'm in love with Thomas. I fell head over heels for him and his preppy boarding school ways, his expensive cut clothing and handsome good looks. He's based on a few people I know who are in the Royal Air Force. They never call people by their first name, they're fiercely loyal and protective and are pretty damned hilarious. I hope you like him. I kinda want a cuddle from him! **_

_**You might also be able to tell that I adore Kurt + Rachel (Hummelberry also has to be the sweetest name for ANY couple ever...!) I love their 'friendship' and the way they're so similar. I can't HELP but write it!  
**_

_**It almost broke my heart to write this as I know someone who was in Blaine's situation and it's horrifically unfair and wrong. I know exactly where the next chapter is going and it shouldn't be too long until it's up. It's one I'm kinda looking forward to you all reading! **_

_**REALLY hope you're still all with me. You all know my brain is filled almost entirely with fluff but it's necessary for this to happen for this story and I quite like writing the more raw stuff every now and then :D **_

_**Next Time: Monica and Alexander arrive. Thomas sticks around. Kurt prepares for the Show Case with the help of Wes and David (and Ms Berry). The Show Case night arrives and things change for everyone...**_


	25. Spotlight

_**I am so so thankful for those who commented and who didn't become disheartened by the angst. It's not meant as an angsty storyline as I am nothing but a soft hearted ridiculous romantic. The thing it, there is no way to air Blaine's troubles (especially serious troubles like these) WITHOUT addressing the more upsetting stuff. I have had first hand experience with very close friends about how this kind of thing can really damage a person and it's awful to imagine. I wanted to treat it was respectfully as possible and I sincerely hope I did that... if not, I tried!**_

_**For the anon who wished Thomas dead and who hates him, I'm very sorry you feel that way. Not everyone is going to like him BUT he is a symbol I wanted to use as a positive. It's rare to see gay teens given a friend/mentor of the same persuasion who is just that – a friend and nothing more. He was intended as a symbol of comfort and stability for Blaine- as is Sylvie – in his life when people have distanced themselves and only caused him further and misguided pain. I'm sorry you don't like him but no, I won't be killing him off- not at all. I am pleased the rest of you have taken kindly to him- he's not intended as a bad guy or as someone to compete against Kurt. Not at all : )**_

_**Thank you SO much again for the kind words and pushing 600 reviews. I know it was a bit of a tough one but this one will hopefully resolve all of your questions, concerns and will show a lot of development.**_

_**For the songs- I usually am not a huge fan of being REQUIRED to listen to music by writers but these two songs are so emotive and I have included the links in my profile. If you can, it'd really help for you hear them, ESPECIALLY Kurt's song. I hope you think they're fitting choices :D**_

_**Yes, this has to remain a little angsty for a while but, believe me, it eases up ;) I had THE BEST time writing the end... :D It's WAY longer too – just under 10,000 words. YIKES!  
Thank you so much for sticking with me and again to Traci for her awesome beta! Please enjoy!**_

-.-.-.-.-.-

Kurt was sure he'd cried for hours. He didn't seem to be crying for himself or, if he was, he was crying out of thanks. He had a loving father, one who was willing to push everything he knew and was taught about love to one side and let his own son teach him. Burt wasn't tuned to understand what being gay meant but Kurt knew he tried every single day to understand and was as accepting as anyone could possibly be. He had a father to be proud of, one who would fight for him, one who would stand by him regardless of how right Kurt was, one who would even risk his own relationships to protect what they had.

Blaine didn't have any of that.

Kurt wiped his eyes, reaching for a tissue from his gilded holder beside his bed. It was hard to accept that Blaine hadn't had a loving family to support him through his teenage years and confusion. He was so comfortable in his own skin and so stable and sturdy that it was hard to grasp how he'd become that way.

Kurt remembered the way Thomas wrapped his arm around Blaine's waist and the protective kiss he'd planted in his hair. There was one reason, he thought. It was obvious that Thomas was important and a large reason that Blaine had lasted so long at Dalton. The words he'd spoken caused Kurt to think.

Blaine had denied there was ever anything more than a friendship there, he'd said they thought of each other as brothers and it was obvious to see how important they were to each other but Kurt wasn't so sure if it was all so platonic. He felt panic rise in his stomach, threatening to unravel his mind again. In a way he knew was far too easy, he'd felt himself brain washed and easily swayed by comments and looks, touches and actions of others. He knew himself – he was quick to form opinions. He pushed those thoughts aside and thanked whoever was responsible for Thomas being a part of Blaine's life. That was the most important thing.

He began to change, wiping his face free of the day's wear and tear, when he heard a soft knock on his door.

"Excuse me?"

Kurt quickly whipped the band off that was keeping his hair back off his face and ran to the door. Thomas stood, coat in hand.

"Oh," was all Kurt managed, well aware that his eyes were raw from crying and he was not looking his best at all, "come in."

Thomas ducked inside with a grateful smile. "I don't know if I should be here or not. I don't want to overstep but I thought I should come to talk to you about Blaine." Kurt motioned for Thomas to sit and joined him in turn. "Has he told you about me?"

"Yes, he said you were his best friend from when he transferred here."

Thomas nodded smiling. "Good. Anyway, I know that in the past, I'm not sure if Blaine told you this but a guy last year began to hang around Blaine a lot and they got on well. This guy started to develop feelings and fell pretty hard for him. Blaine wasn't sure how he felt so made it clear that they were only to be friends. I came to visit for Blaine's birthday and this particular guy got, well, I guess you could only call it jealous. He didn't know the facts and made a scene. It was resolved and he left last year so it's water under the bridge. What I'm getting at is... I don't want you to get the wrong idea." Kurt took a breath and nodded, signalling he understood. "He means a lot to me. Certain people find it difficult enough to accept two guys loving each other. Their preconceived ideas make it hard for some people to accept that two gay guys can also be friends. It's all we've ever been. I mean, I get why anyone would fall head over heels for him, that's obvious, but those feelings I have are simply platonic and always have been. He's like my brother and I love him. I just want that to be understood because what I'm about to tell you needs to be trusted and I need you to understand why I'm telling you it so that you don't get the wrong idea."

Kurt nodded again with a slight smile that surprised him. "He's lucky."

Kurt saw a tiny smattering of pink on Thomas' cheek. "That's kind of you. I've always thought I was the lucky one."

"What was it you wanted to tell me?"

"Blaine's strong. I'm sure you've already worked that one out for yourself and you can tell he's made of solid stuff. What he rarely shows is how much his past has hurt him. It's not my place to tell you why or how and I don't want to betray his trust by doing that even though I know he'd tell you in a heartbeat. What I did want to tell you is that he's got weaknesses like we all have and one particular weakness causes him quite a lot of pain. He rarely has to face it but there's a fine line when it comes to this particular issue. This all sounds cryptic, I know, but I just want you to know that there are consequences for him if something were to go wrong. Tomorrow is the Showcase and I know you're singing, Blaine's singing and you'll both be with The Warblers. The reason I wanted you to know who I am and what my situation is, is because I need to ask you to keep a distance between you and Blaine."

Kurt flinched, frowning. "I see."

"Believe me when I say this Kurt, I do not likethis. In fact I wish I didn't have to do it but the situation is one that can't be resolved before tomorrow. I don't want to pry into what you both share but I do know that he has spoken so much about you recently that I almost feel as if I know you."

Kurt smiled, his eyes misting again. "He acted differently with me earlier. We were so close over Christmas and today he just recoiled like he regretted everything."

Thomas sighed and shook his head. "He hasn't spoken about anyone the way he speaks about you. It's as if you've brought something out of him that's spent years lying dormant. The way he acted says nothing of the way he feels about you, I'm certain. This time of year torments him and it always has. I didn't want to leave without talking to you because you're good for him. When he talks about you, he smiles wider and rambles. You know how hard it is to make Blaine Thornton babble and become a little unhinged? The guy's perfected an art of composure and you have blown it out the water. Seriously, you have a gift," Thomas joked, laughing lightly.

"I think it's mutual," Kurt admitted, blushing delicately and wiping a finger across his eyes, "he's sent me crazy ever since I met him."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Look, Kurt, I don't want to interfere any more than I have. I wanted you to hear what I had to say and I'm certain that Blaine will talk to you himself. Forget what happened today. He's not himself and he'll no doubt apologise for weeks once tomorrow's over. When I first met you, I knew you were a good guy and I can see how happy you make him. I didn't want to see that ruined by misconceptions."

He left almost as quickly as he came. Kurt thanked him, a little shocked still, and closed the door. It hit him like a lead weight in his stomach. Kurt wasn't sure what to do for the best but before he knew what he was doing, he'd tugged on a cardigan and whispered a quick goodbye to a now sleepy Pavarotti before walking down the corridor. He felt his entire body rush with surety, knowing that he had to be strong. Blaine needed help and support and Kurt knew he'd give it freely and without question. He thought back to the times he'd backed away from help when his father lay in hospital, the way he'd snapped when people had offered suggestions of comfort and the way he'd always fought against Mr Schue when he tried to think of ways to help. He was the master of trying to go it alone when it dawned on him – so was Blaine. It was obvious that he had an uncanny ability to care and protect and that at the very core of him was a soft and gentle but unshakeable person with an enormous heart, however, everyone has a weakness, a kryptonite, and Blaine's seemed to be his family – his past.

As Kurt reached the door, he took a deep breath and smiled, feeling a strange sense of purpose and confidence. He could use what he'd learned to help Blaine for once and offer something in return for all of the hugs, all of the care Blaine had shown him.

He pushed the door slightly ajar, glancing to see if Wes was inside. He wasn't. Blaine was lying flat on his back, his iPod headphones in his ears and eyes closed. Kurt didn't want to startle him so he walked slowly and rested a hand with a racing heart on the edge of the bed.

Blaine blinked furiously, pulling the buds out of his ears and gasping. "Kurt!"

He couldn't quite breathe. It didn't seem right that Kurt would be there after how he'd behaved. Blaine just looked, eyes big and regretful, as Kurt smiled slightly.

"Hello," he offered, taking in Blaine's swollen eyes and messy hair, the way his shirt was rumpled and the look of sheer apology written all over his face. Blaine huffed out an agonized sigh and leaned forward on his knees, his eyes meeting the floor. Kurt couldn't bear it. Blaine was usually so full of life and confidence and sat in front of him was someone so concerned and filled with frustration and fear.

Kurt hated it. He wasn't going to sit and watch Blaine's eyes or the way his shoulders slumped a little. He reached out slowly and used his added height to his advantage to rest his arm on the other boy's back, his hand stretching to stroke across the bottom of Blaine's hairline softly. He felt the reaction, the way Blaine sighed and shuffled a millimetre closer and gradually, the way he leaned into the touch.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his eyes finding Kurt's and lingering there, aiming to show how much he meant every word. He couldn't suppress the worry he felt in his stomach, the nagging panic that his father would find out that he'd come out to others and even found someone who he was falling hard for. It was a nightmare that he was determined would never come true.

Kurt melted, sighing gently and wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck to pull him close. He moved into the embrace, his tired limbs responding to Kurt's and holding on tight. It felt amazing to have Kurt close, for him to even be there in the first place and for him to be so understanding despite being almost ignored earlier that day.

"You don't need to say sorry," Kurt whispered into the crook of Blaine's neck.

It was enough to send Blaine's head spinning. He was too lucky. He felt Kurt's warm breath on his neck and the way his right hand had never left his hair, softly threading slowly through it in a way that was so soothing.

"That wasn't me," Blaine mumbled, "I promise. I just panicked. Please don't think that I've been lying or pretending to you. I didn't want to act like I did earlier."

Kurt nodded, pulling him closer. He closed his eyes tightly and hoped that he was making a difference or helping in some way.

Blaine felt a small warm kiss on his neck and felt his worries begin to dissolve. Skin shivered under Kurt's touch as he felt more kisses slowly working their way around his neck and then to his jawline. He wasn't sure what his worries were in that moment. It was intoxicating. Blaine felt his head reel and hands hold onto Kurt harder, almost clinging to him.

"I know," Kurt breathed out, "I know."

Blaine opened his eyes as he felt Kurt retreat. A pair of sparkling blue eyes met his own and drew closer until he felt the sweetest and most chaste kiss pressed tenderly against his. He rested his forehead against Kurt's and breathed in deeply, letting his mind unravel.

"I can't believe you're here," he sighed out, his voice couched in exhaustion, "I feel like I haven't seen you in so long. I wanted today to be perfect and then we got the news that the Showcase had been moved up and I just lost it. This isn't me. This isn't who I am and I don't want you to think it is."

Kurt shushed him. So happy to be there and to be listening. "I don't need you to tell me that. I just need you to take your own advice. You said that you would be there for me and this is me returning the favour."

Blaine chuckled out of sheer bewilderment. "Can we start again?" he asked tentatively.

Kurt leaned back and let a small smile tug at his lips. "I think that's a good idea."

"You have no idea how incredible you are," Blaine stated, his arm reaching to attempt to touch Kurt's cheek but failing out of tiredness. It met his chest and just lay stayed there, pressed against Kurt's heart. "I missed you so much. Your present was wonderful, more than wonderful."

"Yours is hanging in my window," Kurt said as he shuffled to lie against Blaine's pillows, "and I missed you like crazy too."

Blaine followed him in motion and lay on his side, his arm tucked up close to Kurt's side. "This feels nice," he whispered as he melded his own body to the shape of Kurt's and felt a hand teasing through his hair once more.

Kurt knew something had to be said so he mentally prepared himself, took a gulp of air then spoke. "I won't come close tomorrow. I'll be as nonchalant as I know how. You don't need to worry."

Blaine flinched, his brain racing to catch up to speed. Thomas. Of course he'd said something to Kurt, of course he'd been his over protective self and tried to pre-empt things. Blaine felt himself fall into disbelief. Kurt was offering to keep up a pretence and to effectively shadow himself and fall into the background in order to protect Blaine. It wasn't right. Kurt didn't deserve that, he wasn't the kind to be masked and cast aside- he was someone you proudly introduced or showed off to those close to you.

"I wish you didn't need to. I don't want you to think you ever need-"

"Blaine," Kurt urged, his hand lazily drawing shapes in the curly hair, "you don't need to explain. I know this isn't your fault and you shouldn't have to hide yourself but I understand why you're doing it and I know, when you feel able to, you'll tell me why. I'm not happy about it. It makes me angry but that's not because of you."

Blaine nuzzled his head closer into the crook of Kurt's neck, the other boy reacting fluidly and moving to offer the space up. Blaine smiled, snuggling closer and revelling in the fact that he could and without fear or restraint. He loved to be close to people, loved to touch and often marvelled in the feeling that you got from hugging someone or even from harmless high fives or shoulder nudges. Being close was about losing inhibitions and barriers, something that had been so difficult or that was not allowed in his past. He lived that way for a reason but at the sound of his parents' return he'd felt those old walls rebuild themselves, however, lying flush with Kurt's side, his skin shuddering from the delicate way Kurt was stroking his fingers over his scalp, Blaine didn't care anymore- it felt too wonderful to let anything, even his own ridiculous issues, get in the way.

"Please don't stop," he mumbled, lazy and dazed. Kurt smiled into Blaine's forehead and he leaned down to tug himself closer. He felt Blaine soften and sigh the tension from his muscles.

"I'm not going anywhere," he reassured, knowing how much Blaine needed desperately to know that despite his fears and the way he needed their relationship to hit a certain gradual pace, he could deal with all of this, "I know tomorrow will be different but tonight there is no-one else here. Just us."

Blaine's eyelids dropped, his grip on reality slipping as he felt himself pulled into sleep, not before whispering a faint reply. "Thank you."

-.-.-.-.-.-

**The Next Morning**

Blaine cracked open his stinging eyes and glanced around the room. Kurt was gone and a note lay in his place.

_**Had to rehearse. Didn't want to wake you. I'll see you later. I promise today will be fine. Can't wait to hear you sing. K xx**_

Blaine smiled to himself, shocking his system as such a reaction wasn't normal on a day his parents were imminent. He thought of the day he told his family he was gay. It'd been an impulse brought by his inability to keep lying to himself. The feeling inside had grown so tangled and torturous that he could barely stand it any longer. He'd begun to become insular and introverted, unable to express himself at school and had endured months of bullying once someone had latched onto the idea he could be gay. He'd auditioned to sing in the school talent show, his talent spotted by their music teacher and nurtured through singing lessons on a Thursday evening. He'd felt confident as he sang a collection of songs from the greats – he'd even received a round of applause from the audience of teachers and performing arts students. As he'd exited the theatre and started his walk home, they'd appeared and taunted as usual. He wasn't the most popular kid but he certainly wasn't without friends. High school stipulations caused him to be labelled a 'drama geek' or something similar, which automatically placed him a specific minority. Blaine didn't mind. He wasn't about to give up his true love of singing and performing just as much as he wasn't going to let name calling get him down.

It was that night, when he'd stumbled into his front door with a black eye and bleeding lip, that he'd snapped. He'd clung to his sheet music and satchel like a life line, his nails digging into it so hard that it hurt. It was then that his parents realised their son was in trouble. His father had made an appointment with the school to enforce a process in which the bullies would be reprimanded. He'd explained to Blaine that bullying happened to some people, the people who were destined for greatness and prosperity as it was instigated by pure jealousy. Blaine's mother had hugged him to her tightly, unmoving, without uttering a single word.

Two months later brought the day Blaine was sure he'd remember for the rest of his life.

"_Am home!" Blaine called as he flung his school bag on the floor by the door. _

"_Blaine could you please come in here? We need to talk to you," his father had called._

_His stomach tensed awkwardly, a premonition swimming poisonously inside. As he'd entered the room he knew what was about to happen. He felt sick._

"_Where were you tonight?" his mother asked, her hands folded in her lap. She was a deeply passionate woman with a great sense of direction in her life but she was a product of her fortunate up-bringing. With a mother like Sylvie, she was undoubtedly going to have been afforded genes indicative of creativity but was lacking those that his grandmother possessed which allowed her to assert her infinitely kind nature. Monica Dawson was proud. She was her father's daughter – driven and forever aware of the world's perception. She would follow her dreams and pour emotion into her writing but in her real life, was never capable of showing her true self, not even to Blaine. Alexander Thornton was a strong and somewhat cold and resilient business man who prided himself on his earnings, success and the power he held in his hands. He wasn't one for emotions and certainly did not relish discussing those of others. It was a weakness to be plagued by them. Blaine saw his mother's eyes twitch, her eyes deepen and her shoulders tense- she felt immensely. A lifetime of stifled existence had however prepared her for a future of restraint in herself and passion on paper. _

"_I was studying. I have my finals next week mom, you know I do."_

"_Who were you studying with?" Alexander asked, his hand tightening around his pen. He flattened his tie slowly and Blaine's stomach churned._

"_My friend Robert. He's in my class and he's my lab partner so his mother said I could study with him."_

"_I spoke to your teachers today Blaine and I have to say that I am concerned."_

_Blaine perched on the edge of the other couch and screwed his hands together. He saw his mother's eyes flicker to them then back to his face. "About what dad?"_

"_About the reason these boys have been causing you trouble Blaine, about the words they say and why they say them."_

_Blaine's skin ran cold. "I- I don't understand."_

"_Darli-Blaine, why do they call you these names?"_

_He shifted uncomfortably on the spot, his eyes unable to meet either of his parents'. "I don't know mom. They don't like me I guess."_

_He was lying. His father knew it. Blaine saw Alexander purse his lips and breath steady and controlled. "Is there truth to their accusations?"_

"_Dad-"_

"_Do not lie to me," he was warned. Blaine felt the tears rise. He couldn't do this, he couldn't just say it, he wasn't ready. He knew himself and he had come to terms with who he was but this was different._

"_Dad I don't know-"_

"_Blaine I am going to ask you to tell me the truth once more. This will be your last opportunity and I'm afraid if you don't I will have to remove from your school and send you elsewhere because it has become a major issue that I am not prepared to let continue. Are the names these young men call you unfounded or are they true?"_

"_I'm not what they say I am," Blaine choked out, his hand clinging to the couch cushions, "they don't know what they're talking about."_

_Monica shifted in her seat. She knew. Blaine knew that she knew and it was written painfully all over her face. He knew then that his mother was weak, she was so unlike Sylvie. "What don't they understand?" Alexander asked forcefully._

_Blaine felt the tears brim over his eyes and his skin shiver awfully. It was terrifying and he knew that by speaking the truth, his entire life would change. "What it's like," he spat, a small choked noise following as he shook all-over. He couldn't control anything._

_He saw the shift in his father, the panic behind his eyes and the almost sinister way he calculated his next words and prepared himself to deal with it. It wasn't something to be dealt with though and Blaine knew he'd be forced to adhere to whatever rules were to be put in place. _

"_Blaine what are you saying to us?"_

"_I can't be what you want me to be," Blaine whispered, averting his eyes and shuddering still, "I can't- I am not what- I just don't feel the same as other guys. I... I am... I'm gay."_

_Blaine felt the tears stream down his face as fast as they left his eyes. It was all he could do to stay upright. He wiped his eyes furiously and strangled a sob. He saw his father move in his seat and then settle stiffly once more. There was a short breath._

"_I see. As of next week you are transferring to Dalton Academy for Boys in Westerville. I've already spoken to the headmaster Principal Masters and you are able to transfer mid-semester. He has arranged for a room for you and you will remain there as a boarder for the rest of your schooling. It is an enforced tradition that bullying is not accepted there. You will face no further problems."_

_Blaine was cold in shock. "But dad-"_

"_No buts Blaine. You will attend and it will prove to be a successful environment for you. They promote tradition values. We will not talk about this further."_

"_Dad I-"_

"_There are some stipulations that you need to live by however. If you are to succeed and follow me into business then you must not publicise your feelings. You are young and things change. It is your responsibility and yours alone to create a reputation for yourself and this does not involve... it does not involve succumbing to imagined adolescent ideas. You are not to indulge in such behaviour and if I find you are doing so Blaine, I will remove you from this school and you will return here for home tutoring. You are the future of this family. My father fought in battle and served in the military for years proudly and you are to withhold the name of this family honourably. Do you hear me?"_

_Blaine couldn't move. All he wished for was a hug, for his parents to explain that they didn't care if he was gay or straight but that they loved him regardless. It was plain that they didn't have a burning hatred for it or that they didn't love him anymore but they simply did nothing. Blaine wasn't all that sure which was worse. He simply nodded and left the room. It was made clearer over the next week exactly what his father meant by his words. Blaine was not to engage in relationships with anyone of the same sex and was not permitted to make a 'spectacle' of his poor choices. _

_His father thought it was a choice, a whim, something that could be changed. Blaine knew and felt otherwise. There was nothing, however, to do once his father made his decision. He was transferred to Dalton within the week and met Thomas on his second day. _

-.-.-.-.-.-

Blaine showered and dressed, taking time to enjoy the heat of the water and the smell of the tangerine soap Kurt had given him. It was comforting. He kept to his usual routine and was dressed within half an hour. He had to keep breathing and had to get through the day with confidence and strength just as he always had done. Blaine was the master of self control and today would be no exception.

"Thornton? Your ass out of bed?" Thomas called around his door. Blaine smiled.

"Yea come in, I'm dressed."

"Good," Thomas chuckled as he stepped inside. He looked Blaine up and down. "You alright?"

Blaine nodded, his hands finding his pockets. "You talked to Kurt."

Thomas feigned innocent, his face contorting in alarm. "I did no such thing," he cried, throwing his coat onto Blaine's bed.

"Shut up and stop lying, I know you did and I'm not mad. I'm actually grateful."

"Oh well in that case," Thomas sighed happily, "it was all me. I talked to him."

It was hard to stifle a laugh so Blaine didn't try. "Well the credit's all yours. He came to see me," he explained with a half smirk, a cloud still in his eyes though, "we talked."

Thomas beamed. "What happened?"

As Blaine sat on the edge of Wes' bed, noticing he hadn't slept in it, he looked at his feet coyly. "Well Kurt explained he understood and would keep his distance today then he hugged me and lay with me until I fell asleep."

"Wow," Thomas breathed out with a supersize grin, "I like this kid. He's good."

"He is," Blaine mumbled, his face painting gently with blush, "he's amazing."

"So is Blaine Thornton prepared for his solo as the rest of The Warblers are freaking out downstairs? I passed David's room and Wes was in there attempting to learn the step routine for your group number tonight. Those two worry me."

Blaine chuckled again, shocked he was actually laughing. "I live with him and he spends most of his night in David's room. If I didn't know better I'd be suspicious of the amount of alone time those two have."

Thomas curled his jacket around his arm. "Look, I promised dad I'd visit and help him prepare for this evening. You going to be ok?" Blaine nodded his head in reassurance. "Well, I'll be in the audience and I've got my phone. If you need me, call me."

"No matter where you are, no matter how far?" Blaine hummed with a smirk.

"Don't worry baby, just call my name I'll be there in a hurry," was the lyrical reply in between laughs as Thomas closed the door behind him.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Kurt was dressed and panicking. He'd spent three and a half hours running the lyrics and practising the correct key. Rachel had provided a list of songs so wonderful and frankly, classic, but none were right. He'd sat down and trawled his iPod until one particular tune stuck resolutely in his mind. He'd smiled and teared up, knowing that this one song was more than perfect.

Rachel had listened to his first attempt and had given him enough pointers before she hung up to go and wow New Directions with her New Year promise song. Pavarotti had been his adoring audience for the next few run throughs before he was sure he'd nailed every note. The tiny yellow bird tweeted tunefully along.

He grabbed his music, boom box and headed in the direction of David's room. The corridors were bustling with families and students all introducing their loved ones to room mates and giving them a guided tour of the hallowed halls. Kurt smiled, not too upset that his family couldn't make it. He knew they'd have been there if he'd had time to invite them and plus, he felt pressure enough without the addition of Burt, Carole and Finn.

"Darling, could I ask you, do you know where I can find a Blaine Thornton? He's short, dark curly hair with a voice of an angel?"

Kurt stepped back and took in the lady in front of him. She was short with long curls coifed perfectly in a bun at the back of her head, held with decorative vintage hair pins. Her fitted brown tweed dress was teamed with a long brown lapel coat to her knees and two coloured scarves intertwined around her neck stylishly. Kurt wanted the coat, he coveted the scarves and his eyes could not move from her pointed leather boots. "Darling?"

Kurt smiled, unused to being addressed in that way but feeling the glow of her gaze. "Um, yes I know Blaine. I'll take you," he rushed out, panic bubbling inside at the prospect that he could be facing his first painful moment of the day.

"So, you are?" she asked, her perfectly shaped eyebrows raised, as they began the walk down the corridor. Kurt admired her for her age but timeless beauty and obvious grooming.

"Oh I'm sorry, how rude of me, my name is Kurt."

He saw her flinch a little but it was followed by a warm smile. "Oh I see," she mused gently, "well, it's a pleasure to meet you Kurt. I'm Sylvia Dawson, Blaine's grandmother."

If he hadn't been given the task of escort, Kurt was sure he'd have fled. She was stunning and wonderful and exactly as he'd imagined from Blaine's description. He nodded carefully and noticed they were outside the correct room. "It's wonderful to meet you. This is Blaine's room here, room 4B, I'll leave you to say hello."

"Oh no, stay," she called at Kurt's retreating back before drawing him closer, "I have heard so much about you my love." She'd whispered it close to his ear and in a voice so slight that he shuddered when her words resonated. She knew, Kurt mused, she knew that she had to be discrete. In that moment, Kurt was sure he fell in love with her.

"Grandma!" Blaine cried, throwing open his door and wrapping his arms around her neck. Kurt watched as she stood still for a second, gathered herself then gradually pulled Blaine tight and patted the hair at the back of his head. Blaine's eyes flickered behind her, connecting with Kurt's and sparkling with shock.

He leaned out of the embrace and closed the door behind them all. "Kurt?"

"Yes, he was kind enough to show me where your room was. We've already introduced ourselves haven't we?" she asked pointedly, smiling with purpose.

"Yes," Kurt giggled, his eyes never leaving Blaine's, "but now I think I should go and arrange the accompaniment for my performance later. It was wonderful to meet you."

Sylvie moved around Blaine's room, running her hand over surfaces and grinning lovingly at objects of interest. Blaine took the opportunity to act. He reached out and pulled lightly on Kurt's forearm, the other boy stumbling to him.

"Thank you for last night. I mean it."

Kurt blushed and bit lightly on his lip. "I got to be the superhero for once," he admitted, his eyes blinking behind long eyelashes.

Blaine chuckled quietly and drew Kurt closer. He nodded gingerly, letting his fingers draw delicate patterns on Kurt's arm. It was an odd action to most but Kurt squirmed, desperate to close the distance and kiss. He didn't. Instead, he drew Blaine's fingers to his lips and kissed _them_ gently instead. Blaine's eyes slid closed, his breath catching and a lazy smile comfortingly teasing at his lips. He felt the waves of reassurance glide over his skin, easing him into the day.

"I can't wait to hear you sing either," Blaine whispered as his eyes fluttered open. Kurt nodded, bowing slightly before retreating out of the door.

-.-.-.-.-

Sylvie knew her grandson well. He was a guarded young thing with a heart the size of the Empire State Building. He was smart, genuine, passionate and talented, so talented. She was proud of him for this and the qualities he possessed but never so much as when she saw him fight against the demons of his past. She didn't care for her daughter if honest, she lost the fight with herself everytime she attempted to understand why her own flesh and blood had refused to stand up and right the wrongs of her husband. Sylvie was never prepared to let Blaine wallow in their mistakes. He was his own person and one which she respected wholeheartedly, even after her many many years experience of humanity. He was one of the best.

She watched as the young boy with the pale skin stepped closer to her grandson, his eyelashes fluttering and lips rubbing together. She could see their connection, the way her grandson changed and relaxed into the moment. She saw his smile and the light in his eyes as he couldn't keep away and could not resist the option to reach out and touch. Sylvie kept them in her line of sight as she wandered the room, taking in the way the other boy drew her grandson's hand to his lips and pressed them gently down. It was impossibly sweet and something that obviously meant a lot to Blaine. It was plain from the way his eyes closed tight, relishing the wonderful feeling. She remembered those feelings, the promise of something close and warm and solid, the excitement of surrendering to another and the astonishment of the rush of bliss that flowed from knowing someone else cared. She smiled, cherishing the happiness in her grandson's eyes and knowing that she most definitely approved of Kurt. Her grandson was right, he did have pretty eyes.

-.-.-.-.-

"So," Sylvie asked, positioning herself neatly on Blaine's desk chair, "that was Kurt?"

Blaine nodded feeling strangely bashful. "Do you like him?"

It was a question entirely unrequired. "He seems impeccably sweet darling and I do see what you mean about his eyes. Windows to the soul my love."

Blaine smiled widely and approached her, pulling her into an odd hug. "Can I ask you something grandma?"

She took hold of his shoulders and held him in front of her. "Anything, as always."

Blaine blinked, still deliberating whether to ask but decided it was entirely necessary. "Would you be able to keep a watch for Kurt and Thomas? I don't want Mom or Dad to know about Kurt and I want Thomas spared from another scene like last time."

"I understand darling," she nodded, a ghost of sadness in her eyes, "I shall try my very best. Thomas is a fine young man and I will not see him treated as your father deemed necessary last year but I honestly cannot abide how you must hide yourself Blaine. This is not right at all."

"Grandma," he began, pleading, knowing fine well that she was as angry as he, "please? He can't know about Kurt. Kurt's been through enough recently and I know he can hold his own but I don't want him to have to. I know how Dad can be and I don't think I could sit by and see him treat Kurt badly."

"Consider it done," she whispered, pressing a motherly kiss to his forehead and smoothing down his inhibited hair, "now promise me you won't think of all of this nonsense anymore. It's not fair on you my darling, you're always the life and soul. I won't see you under any stress."

He let out a controlled breath and forced the confidence into his eyes. "Ok. I will try. I promise."

A knock on the door startled them both. As Blaine opened it, he felt his skin pull taut. "Mom. Dad," he stated with a put on smile. After years of perfecting a game face, it came very easily.

"Blaine," Monica smiled and placed her firm hand on his shoulder. She stroked it once and pulled back with a tilt of her head, "your hair's longer."

He nodded awkwardly as he turned to his father. "I wasn't expecting you so soon."

"Your mother wanted to visit a museum nearby so we decided to make a day of it. To try to make the most of the time here. It's good to see you son."

A frown was inevitable. Blaine felt his grandmother's hand on his shoulder, warmly holding tight. He watched as his parents flinched at Sylvie's appearance as they always did.

"Mother, we didn't know you were coming," Monica urged, her voice clipped. She leaned forward and placed a small kiss on Sylvie's cheek before returning to Alexander's side with a curt nod. "So Blaine when is your performance? We talked to Principal Masters on our way in today. He was very complimentary about your progress this year."

At this moment, Wes, George, Henry and Kurt passed behind his parents. Blaine felt his breath hitch and his grandmother's hand tighten on his shoulder. He frowned, his eyes meeting his feet immediately. He knew Kurt's cheeks turned pink, knowing it was an inevitable reaction for him, but it made his stomach lurch awkwardly inside. It felt wrong to ignore him- he was restricted again, unable to be himself and Blaine didn't like it at all. It was as if he was denying his own normal feelings and actions.

Blaine saw them stop at the next door, no doubt collecting David. Kurt didn't move, he stared forward, motionless.

Alexander smoothed his tie and folded his long coat over his arm further. "It seems you've made quite an impression this year. Solos, academic awards, Head of the Student Council, we're proud of you son." He patted his son's shoulder. Blaine watched his hand and let his eyes follow back to his father's eyes, the ones that mirrored his own but were colder- something was always missing. He wasn't a bad person, just one who was stuck in life, so completely compressed into his own ideals that he couldn't see past the end of his own nose. It was a life of denial and emptiness.

"Thanks Dad."

Wes sidled up out of nowhere. "Oh nice to see you again Mr and Mrs Thornton," he chimed, squeezing past them in the doorway and beginning to fumble around in his drawer for something, "oh don't mind me, just need to grab my CD. Blaine, everyone's making their way down now. Kurt's just finished his run through so we're all ready. Go on in thirty minutes."

"Ok, I'll be down soon."

Sylvie slipped to the other side of the door not before pressing another kiss to the top of Blaine's head. "Break a leg darling. I know you'll be wonderful."

Blaine's parents turned to leave, however, Monica turned and went to say something but seemed to falter. "Good luck son," she said simply, her eyes concentrated with emotion, "I always look forward to hearing you sing."

He felt the air stutter in his throat, his eye soften with a sigh. "Thanks mom," he mumbled. The sadness intensified and so did the anger. She was regretful and somewhat smaller compared to the way he remembered her. Not seeing his parents for months on end made him forget their nuances and the way they were together – Blaine felt so disconnected from them now. It was as if his own mother was a stranger.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Ready to wow them, new kid?" Wes yelled, bouncing up and down, his arms on Kurt's shoulders.

"Definitely."

He was ready. He'd been waiting for a chance to kick The Warblers butts and show them just how well he could sing. He also wanted to show them a trick of two about performing instead of sidestepping and clicking to the beat. It was exciting to be up on stage again, performing to applause and a responsive audience. He tried to focus and breath deep to channel his focus to the task at hand but his mind kept drifting back to Blaine's face as his parents had talked to him. Kurt had only seen and heard a small snippet but he felt the mask of uncomfortable feelings surrounding them. Sylvie was warm and graceful with vibrant and passionate eyes but from what Kurt had spotted from the corner of his eyes, Monica was different; she shared those bright eyes but they were pained and veiled. It made him sad. Kurt considered his own mother and her wide, brilliant blue eyes, her soft cascading curls and the way she effervescently commanded a room with elegance. He knew he only remembered her good attributes but she was perfect to him, warm and loving and would always remain so in his eyes. Kurt felt his chest tighten at the thought that Blaine had stood in front of his own mother and he hadn't seen her touch Blaine once.

His father was a different matter. He looked the restrained man he obviously was. He was the actor, the pretender and underneath, Kurt was sure hid a most terrified human being. Nobody fathered a son like Blaine without a wealth of emotion but it was heart-breaking to think that someone could close off so starkly. Kurt wondered what had made him so insular, driven and so completely unaware of his effect on his own son.

"Kurt?"

"Yes?" he blinked back at Wes who was psyching himself up with David, mock punching each other and bopping up and down on the balls of their feet. The wings were dark and lamp lit in one corner reminding Kurt of McKinley and the many performances he'd been lucky to take part in there. As he lost himself in thought, Principal Masters entered the stage and began his address to the crowd. Kurt peeked. The auditorium, all wood panelling and delicate but imposing chandeliers, was bustling.

Kurt felt a hand thread itself into his own that was held gracefully behind his back. A warm body positioned itself behind him and didn't move. He knew it was Blaine, he smelled of Brazilian coffee, his hands were rough but his palms were soft and there was no way any of the other Warblers would be so touchy feely unless they'd suddenly changed team overnight.

"Hi," came a whisper close to his ear. He shuddered and leaned into the space where Blaine had been with a slight grin. Principal Masters announced Kurt's name as the first soloist. It was a blur of blue and red as the other Warblers hugged him, high fived and slapped his back. Kurt dusted off his blazer with an amused but haughty roll of his eyes- they should have known better than to ruffle him up and wrinkle his clothes as he approached a stage. "Break a leg," Blaine called just as Kurt smiled and stepped into the limelight.

The crowd erupted full of applause. He took a deep and long breath, centering himself and letting his skin adjust to the glare of the stage lights. He felt the buzz in his stomach just as his lips teased into a practiced beam. He was home and it felt good.

The Warbler's pianist, Joe, sat to the side of the stage. He signalled with a nod and began to play the opening melody, Kurt standing tall and tilted to one side so as to hold his own. He felt his chest expand and heart sing. He had to sing the words right- he'd chosen the song for a reason and there was only one chance to get it right so he began, his voice filling the entire stage.

_Take all my vicious words  
And turn them into something good  
Take all my preconceptions  
And let the truth be understood  
Take all my prized possessions  
Leave only what I need  
Take all my pieces of doubt  
And let me be what's underneath_

He shocked himself at the emotion behind each syllable. He kept his eyes planted in the audience, finding a person and singing it to them with conviction.

Courage is when you're afraid,  
But you keep on moving anyway  
Courage is when you're in pain,  
But you keep on living anyway

His eyes were no longer fixed on the sea of people. They were locked on Blaine's, each word emphasised with everything inside of him.

_We all have excuses why  
Living in fear something in us dies  
Like a bird with broken wings  
It's not how high he flies,  
But the song he sings  
_

He saw Blaine smile, the connection between the words not lost. Kurt felt his fingers tremble as the words coursed through him making so much sense.

_Courage is when you're afraid,  
But you keep on moving anyway  
Courage is when you're in pain,  
But you keep on living anyway_

It's not how many times you've been knocked down  
It's how many times you get back up  


He took a deep breath and felt his words soar. His throat almost caught but he stopped it in time, arching his shoulders to allow more air to fill his lungs and the words to pour out- powerful and clear.

_Courage is when you've lost your way,  
But you find your strength anyway  
Courage is when you're afraid  
Courage is when it all seems grey  
Courage is when you make a change,  
And you keep on living anyway  
_  
You keep on moving anyway  
You keep on giving anyway  
You keep on loving anyway

Wes clutched David's arm, feigning a swoon and sighing dramatically. Although they were teasing, both shared a genuine look of affection, their eyes flickering between Blaine and Kurt.

Blaine couldn't move. Kurt was dazzling, his voice like crystal and each word sent shivers down his spine. He was sure it was one of the most beautiful sights he'd ever seen. He was magnificent, so confident and sure of his talent but throughout, with every single note he sang, his eyes filled with vulnerability and a wealth of experience that made Blaine's heart ache. He wanted him so badly that it wasn't possible to quantify anymore- nobody had ever sung to him, nobody had ever got to know him enough to be able to and each word made perfect sense.

Courage. It was the basis of their relationship, the mantra Blaine had given to Kurt but it was obvious now, Kurt walking towards him slowly out of the piercing glow, that Blaine needed to take his own advice. He smiled, forgetting anything and everyone, as Kurt stopped in front of him, his lips soft and eyes sparkling with charm, belief and a depth of emotion that Blaine simply wanted to lose himself in. He just couldn't speak. His heart raced in his chest as he struggled to breathe, so much want and need and a million other crazy emotions rushing through every inch of his body. He'd never felt that way before, never been overwhelmed like that before. It was as if Kurt had seen his soul and picked up pieces of him, willing to put them back together one by one.

"So?"

Blaine stood silence for a second. He swallowed hard, feeling his hands shaking as he reached for Kurt's in turn. He pulled him quickly to the other side of the curtain, out of line of sight and stood, insanely close together, their breaths audible in the confined space.

It took a single second for Blaine's resolve to crumble. He reached for Kurt's hair, threading his fingers through and pulling him flush to his own body as their lips met. Kurt gasped, his hands lifting to his sides in mild shock before resting gently on Blaine's hips as an anchor. They stood motionless for a second, Blaine kissing deeper in a way that made Kurt's legs go weak. He didn't stop though, he need Kurt to feel how much he meant, to see how special he was and to right all of the ridiculous wrongs that had occurred. There wasn't time for fear or baby steps. Blaine could feel Kurt's lips moving against his own, keeping up perfectly even though with every tiny movement Blaine would make, his breath would catch and he'd respond more intensely. He was a goner. As Kurt let out another breathless gasp, Blaine felt arms wrap around his neck and pull tight. His shoulders melted, his spine softened and every nerve ending in his body tingled in a way he was sure should be illegal. Kurt wasn't afraid now, his hands clutching at Blaine's hair almost desperately as he pulled himself closer and closer with each kiss whilst making a tune of tiny noises in response.

""Your song -" Blaine breathed rough against Kurt's cheek, the other boy refusing to listen and instead pressing his lips impatiently against Blaine's once more. Soft and much more self assured than before, Blaine could barely believe Kurt was the same person. A lifetime of being starved of affection does that to a person.

"For you," Kurt stated, hoping to end any discussion, his head reeling from the overload of feelings and how absorbed he was in the moment.

Blaine's hands encircled Kurt's waist tugging him tight, his lips still gliding softly but with force. It was a little frantic now, both breathing heavily and moving with purpose and need. He felt his hands budge up the fabric of Kurt's jacket, the thick material curling up as his fingers found Kurt's skin exposed. Kurt gasped again but didn't stop. There was something grounding about Blaine touching him like that, something so incredible that he lost the fear, found trust and lifted himself higher, his arms still around Blaine's neck as his skin flushed with goose bumps.

Blaine didn't push it. Even in a desire-filled daze he found himself just running his hands around Kurt's waist and to the crook of his back, relishing in the fact that Kurt shuddered at every touch. He smiled into the kiss, Kurt noticing immediately. As Blaine let out a small dreamy laugh, a voice on the microphone announced his name. Kurt jumped back, startled, his dazed and woozy eyes blowing wide and alert.

"Oh my god," he hissed, almost choking out a laugh, "come here." In a second, Blaine felt his jacket being pulled down taut and smoothed straight and his tie replaced back into the centre. Kurt smiled up, lovingly, and petted his hair down. "Go wow them," he whispered with a small push and Blaine was walking out into the glare.

Kurt giggled, his hand over his face and instantly smoothing out his own hair. The fire from his face was astounding but he didn't care; he watched Blaine almost stumble onto the stage and transform immediately. His dazzling eyes shone as he bowed to the applause. Kurt's heart was still racing, hands still shaking and body still exhilarated and tingling from head to toe. The crowd died down and Kurt told himself sternly to get a grip, there was time to jump around and tell Pavi about every single second as he danced to something inherently cheesy and swooping on his iPod but this was a time to listen. He repositioned himself and planted a nonchalant expression on his face, his legs gliding him out from behind the curtain innocently. The elation was unmistakeable swirling in his tummy as Kurt walked on air reminding himself he'd just made out hiding backstage in a theatre with the guy he was crazy about- finally, he felt teenage. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention to him though. He smiled, sneakily and somehow proud, and fixed his full attention on Blaine.

Blaine was still on red alert, every nerve ending firing and left completely on edge but he knew he had to pull it together. He knew the song and glanced into the audience to find the eyes he wanted to see. Thomas sat to the right hand side of the stage, beaming bright and waving slightly; Sylvie was positioned in the third row alongside his parent's who were smiling but nowhere near as bright and wonderful as his grandmother. She was on her feet, clapping boldly and smiling bigger than Blaine thought possible.

As his accompanied guitarist strummed loudly, the notes firing straight into the audience, he took a breath and let his eyes linger briefly off stage where Kurt stood grinning happily and completely blissful. He began to sing from his heart.

_Well sometimes the sun shines on  
Other people's houses and not mine.  
Some days the clouds paint the sky all gray  
And it takes away my summertime.  
Somehow the sun keeps shining upon you,  
While I struggle to get mine.  
If there's a light in everybody,  
Send out your ray of sunshine._

He sang with regret and the anger he felt inside for never having the guts to rebel against his father and the choices he was bound by. He sang for the pain Kurt had endured and the unnecessary way Thomas had been treated too- both deserving so much more. He sang for the times he'd felt upset and nobody was there to understand. He felt the words, the message in the song to just be able to live happily and without any restraint or anything holding him back from what he felt so naturally. He wasn't asking for anything more, simply to be happy.

_I want to walk the same roads as everybody else, _

_Through the trees and past the gates.  
Getting high on heavenly breezes,  
Making new friends along the way.  
I won't ask much of nobody,  
I'm just here to sing along.  
And make my mistakes looks gracious,  
And learn some lessons from my wrongs._

_Well sometimes the sun shines on  
Other people's houses and not mine.  
Some days the clouds paint the sky all gray  
And it takes away my summertime.  
Somehow the sun keeps shining upon you,  
While I struggle to get mine.  
A little light never hurt nobody,  
Send out your ray of sunshine._

Oh, if this little light of mine  
Combined with yours today,

He turned and sang the remainder of the song, unmoving from his gaze upon Kurt, smiling slightly with each pointed phrase.

How many watts could we luminate?  
How many villages could we save?  
And my umbrella's tired of the weather,  
Wearing me down.

Well, look at me now.

You should look as good as your outlook,  
Would you mind if I took some time,  
to soak up your light, your beautiful light?  
You've got a paradise inside.  
I get hungry for love and thirsty for life,  
And much too full on the pain,  
When I look to the sky to help me  
And sometimes it looks like rain.

_Well sometimes the sun shines on  
Other people's houses and not mine.  
Some days the clouds paint the sky all gray  
And it takes away my summertime.  
Somehow the sun keeps shining upon you,  
While I struggle to get mine.  
A little light never hurt nobody,  
Send out your ray of sunshine.  
_  
You're undeniably warm, you're cerulean,  
You're perfect in desire.  
Won't you hang around  
so the sun, it can shine on me,  
And the clouds they can roll away,  
And the sky can become a possibility?  
If there's a light in everybody,  
Send out your ray of sunshine.

-.-.-.-.-

_**So, there you go. That took it out of me! I really hope you liked it.**_

_**The songs are:**_

_**Kurt's – "Courage Is" by The Strange Familiar (beautiful song)**_

_**Blaine's – "The Sunshine Song" by Jason Mraz (Jason's one of my all time favourite singer/songwriters. He's a flawless talent.)**_

_**Links are in my profile. I definitely urge you to listen to them : )**_

_**Again, it'll be a couple of days until the next Chapter but this is 10,000 words to tide you over till then! **_

_**HAPPY NEW YEAR to everyone : )**_


	26. Learning Lessons and Causing Chaos

_**Hey Everyone :D So sorry for taking a little while to post this... (see notes at the end for more info).**_

_**Just wanted to give a shout out to a story that I think is wonderful on here. It's by CrazyShenanigans and called "Skin and Bones". I've had a few people asking about stories who have taken the relationship slowly and REALLY focused on the tension and nuances that are so ... REAL! It IS a future!fic but I'd urge you to read it- I love it and would definitely recommend it!**_

_**Also, if any of you have had your 'Glee fan' head in the ground and HAVEN'T read 'Dalton' then GET TO IT. I swear I read it MORE for her OCs than Kurt/Blaine now. Anyone whose heart DID NOT break at the end of Chapter 18... well, I don't know how it was possibly for it not to. Shane and Reed literally have my heart. Monique's a wonderful wonderful writer. **_

_**I have to thank a couple of people. Firstly, to JP-Wings for leaving THE most supportive and lovely reviews since I first started this story, welcomemoon for THE most overwhelmingly sweet message and mot51 for leaving the most enthusiastic comments! **_

_**I also have SO many LJ recs but just go and look yourself ;) Anyway, I will have another Chapter up tomorrow as this is a slightly shorter one...and (as explained later) doesn't have many major Kurt/Blaine scenes. This COULD be described as the Chapter of loose ends, but I hope it doesn't leave anyone disappointed. **_

_**I hope you enjoy! : )**_

_**-.-.-.-.-.-  
**_

"Darling?"

Sylvie was proud as punch. The crowd's reaction to Blaine's performance had made her the happiest grandmother in the world. It was always a treat to hear Blaine sing, his voice improved from year to year and he truly was growing into his own. There was only one thing standing in his way.

"Yes mother?" Monica replied, her eyes scanning the crowd for her husband. He'd disappeared to speak to the Principal about Blaine's fees.

Sylvie pursed her painted lips. "Go and see your son. I'm going to locate Alexander and engage him in scintillating conversation and we all know how dearly he loves me." Every word was laced with piercing sarcasm.

Monica blinked. "Mother, I-"

"No daughter of mine is going to continue to behave the way you have. This is the one and only time I am going to say this and you will listen," her hand found her hip purposefully, "your son is a hard working student, befriended by most at this institution, well liked, extremely respected, talented beyond expectation and strives to do no more other than impress the people around him. I think it's high time he only sought to impress himself, don't you?" Monica glanced at the floor, her eyes darkening under her mother's steely gaze. "So this is what you're going to do. You're going to find him, explain to him honestly using the words I know you so eloquently possess just how outstanding his performance was. You're then going to apologise for the poor decisions you made on his behalf. You will explain that you accept him, you wish him to be happy and, above all, that you love him. He will be free to live his life as he wishes and by free, I mean entirely free to experience love, loss, heart break and the kinds of feelings every teenage boy should be offered. He is not your robot Monica and neither is he Alexander's to be commanded and dictated to. He is a young boy with a heart left in an iron grip. I will not sit back any longer and watch this happen. Did you know Blaine asked me to keep you and Alexander away from some of his friends through fear of you both treating them badly? Your own son is on edge. "

Monica coughed, her eyes still focused on her shoes. Sylvie saw her daughter's cheek glisten and reached out to touch. "Moth-"

"Go right away. I know my daughter is still in there somewhere. I'm waiting for her to realise her mistake and to regain that strength I taught her from infancy."

As a single tear fell from Monica's eyelashes, her mother knew she'd done her job.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Kurt was sure he'd be covered in bruises in the morning from the dozen back slaps and multiple high fives he'd received in the space of an hour. Their group performance of "Such Great Heights" had been received with rapturous applause and a rousing speech by the Principal in response to their talent. For the first time, Kurt felt as if he belonged. He'd been given the opportunity to shine solo and then perform as an ensemble which, if he did say so himself, sounded amazing.

He'd watched Blaine disappear after his performance to wait alongside the Principal and the Heads of Faculty in order to file on stage for the closing speeches. As Head of the Student Council, he had duties to fulfil. Kurt had waved a goodbye which was met with a warm smirk and left Blaine to it. He only wanted to run and pounce on him, to hug him tight and tell him how beautiful the song was and how the words meant so much but he knew there would be time later. He would make sure of it.

He joined The Warblers in the senior commons where Isla had laid on a feast for kings. "Kurt?"

He turned to see Wes standing tall and official looking. It was disconcerting enough to be called his actual name.

"Yes Wesley," he replied sarcastically.

"Kurt we'd like to offer you a solo for Regionals. It will be regulated and discussed as a group regarding choice of song but the opportunity is there if you'd like it?"

Kurt gasped in air, his face beaming. "Oh my god, really?"

"Yes really," was the reply, stern and sure. It almost caused Kurt to burst into giggles at the sight of Wes in his official capacity.

"Well I accept. Thank you."

It was then that Wes jumped on the spot, his guard fallen, and ruffled Kurt's hair. "Awesome. Oh new kid, how you've grown!"

It was odd and completely baffling how it seemed as if there were two very different people in one person's body but Kurt didn't care. He had the chance to kick ass and take centre stage- nobody was going to take that away from him. No way were the council going to inhibit his song choice. It was time for him to assert some Hummel magic and show them how it was done.

Wes pulled him to the centre of the madness as every Warbler, in a sea of navy and red, stood raising glasses of sparkling cider. Kurt smiled, picking up his own from the trays positioned on the table in the centre, and raising it as high as he could. Blaine wasn't there and he was missed but Kurt thought of him and felt a surge of happiness as David bumped his shoulder with a goofy grin.

"To The Warblers!"

-.-.-.-.-.-

Principal Masters gave Blaine a firm handshake and thanked him for his effort. Thomas was close-by smiling fondly. As the Principal was steered away towards the theatre exit, Thomas took two steps and smirked, perching on one of the theatre seats.

"So Golden boy, how you doing?"

Blaine mirrored his friend's position at his side and rested slightly against his shoulder with a friendly bump. "Surprising good thanks," he replied, smiling secretly.

Thomas frowned, searching the other boy's face. "Spill."

"Nothing, I'm just pleased the day's nearly over that's all."

"You don't fool me Thornton," Thomas urged, ducking his head to catch Blaine's eye, "come on, what happened? Your eyes are all shifty and your cheeks have turned a lovely shade of scarlet."

Blaine laughed, raking his hand over his face. "Go away, you think you're so clever," he scolded with tight lips and amused narrow eyes.

"Never."

"I may," Blaine explained carefully, "I may have thrown caution to the wind and pretty much ravished Kurt behind the curtain backstage."

Thomas started to laugh, his eyes rolling in their sockets. "Jesus Thornton, talk about being discreet."

"Oh man," Blaine sighed, unable to keep the grin from his lips, "it was one of those moments of pure insanity."

"Good insanity?" Thomas asked suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows and playfully rolling his shoulders. It was a sign that their relationship was so comfortable.

"Words don't even come close," Blaine breathed quietly, blushing.

"Blaine?"

The sound came from behind them, slight but with a hint of desperation. He turned to see his mother, bag hanging from her arm and pale cream coat draped over the top. She shifted on her feet and smiled a little, full of apology.

"I'll see you later Thornton," Thomas stated, nodding gently in Monica's direction with the utmost respect. She offered a small smile, nodding back before walking closer to her son.

"Your performance was wonderful Blaine."

He sat himself on the edge of the seat again. "Thank you."

"I wanted," she stuttered, "I wanted to tell you that I'm, that I'm so very... very proud of you." Blaine didn't speak. There was nothing to say that hadn't already been said in the past so he simply listened, feeling that he hadn't heard enough from his mother over the years. The sound of her voice was almost alien to him. It was about time she spoke up. "I watched you with your, um, friends and you're obviously well liked here and are thought of very fondly. I do worry Blaine, I do. I don't want you to ever think I don't and I have possibly done you a disservice over the past year. I haven't done my duty as your mom."

He took a breath. "You knew didn't you?" he asked, his eyes planted on hers, deep and pleading.

Monica opened her mouth as if to speak but then stopped, her eyes clouding with regret. When she found her voice, it was small. "Yes."

Blaine closed his eyes tight, pressing the tears back. "You never ever told me it was ok."

"Blaine I accepted who you were a long time ago and I have no problems with your choices but-"

He snapped. "But you asked me to refrain from acting as myself, from being who I was and told me in no uncertain terms that if I did act on my feelings, my natural feelings, then it'd disgrace the family. Short of telling me you were ashamed of me, there was nothing worse you could have done."

Monica didn't speak. Blaine could see the damp circle around her eyes, the way her forehead wrinkled painfully and her flawless skin flush. "Blaine I am so very sorry if it got out of hand."

There was no way he was going to hold back now. The pain rushed to the surface and the years of frustration fought at his lips and burst forward. "I've had boyfriends. I've had my first kiss. I've been attracted to guys mom and you know what? It's never felt right because I've always had dad's words in the back of my mind. How I was on an ultimatum. I shouldn't feel that way. I'm always terrified that I'd suffer for just being me and for being happy."

"Blaine I don't want you to feel that way."

"Then come with me," he forced, his eyes wide and bright now, flowing with honesty, "come with me and don't judge. Just open your eyes. Just listen."

He signalled for her to walk behind him sharply. Monica obeyed.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Kurt needed to change. Other Warblers were mingling in everyday clothes and settling down to celebrate and relax before the beginning of term. Most had said goodbye to parents or family. The mood was uplifting and there was a definite sense of camaraderie in the air. Something felt spontaneous and Kurt made a plan to monopolise on that, not before he let his mind map his closet, choosing an outfit mentally and enjoying the creative outlet as he sauntered through the dim-lit halls.

"Kurt?" He turned to see Blaine and Monica approaching up the corridor. The initial thought was to feign ignorance and pretend he hadn't heard but Blaine had urgency written all over his face and a frantic look in his eyes. Kurt didn't move. "Mom," Blaine gestured, "I'd like you to meet Kurt."

The other boy blinked rapidly, catching up. It couldn't be happening. He felt the panic rise and shifted on the balls of his feet. A breath managed to escape just as he found his confidence reserve and straightened his shoulders with a smile. "It's good to meet you Mrs Thornton," he spoke softly and stretched out his hand daintily for her to shake. The first thing to notice was her hair. She was closer now and her dark curls appeared more prominent. She had Blaine's eyes, although darkened with something but Blaine's elusive and enchanting colour that was a colour so completely indescribable.

She was rigid in place but extended her hand too and took Kurt's. He felt how cold her fingers were and saw the startled look in her eyes. She smiled beyond it, glancing confusedly at Blaine.

"Kurt transferred here this year from a different school," he explained, his eyes urging his mother to see the similarities, "I'm sure you saw him perform tonight."

Kurt stood still and watched Monica relax a smidgen, her cheeks sharpening as she grinned thinly. She was obviously much more than she showed normally and it was clear that she was trying hard not to cry. "Yes. You have a beautiful voice," she said, her voice tiny but firm.

"I stayed with Kurt at the beginning of the holidays when flights were grounded. His family were kind enough to offer me a bed for a few nights."

Kurt shot a glance at Blaine, unsure as to why this was happening. He waited for Blaine to act, trusting him implicitly. A swell of pride filled his heart as he realised Blaine had chosen to stand by his side, their arms almost brushing.

"Oh. That's very kind of you Kurt. Please thank your family for their generosity."

"I will but honestly, it was no problem."

Blaine beamed. "Ok, am just going to show mom back to the entrance but I'll be back for Warblers stuff in a bit, ok?"

Kurt was taken aback still but nodded, his eyes warm and understanding. Blaine was proving a point and something had changed. He was taller and shining bright.

As Kurt retreated back into the common room, Blaine sighed, glancing at his mother. She sighed and reached to lay her hand on her son's arm.

"He seems like a lovely boy," she smiled, her lip quivering, "does he make you happy?"

Blaine fought back tears and bit his lip hard. His head nodded without a single thought.

"Blaine. This is all I want, all I've ever wanted. Your father may be uncomfortable with your choices and concerned about their effect but I want you to know that I am not, I never have been."

"None of that matters if you sit back and let dad dictate to me."

"I know Blaine," she sighed, wiping her eyes, "I know. Are his rules holding you back from a relationship with this boy?"

"From being close to Kurt, from spending time with Thomas and from making my own choices. I can't invite him as my date to prom, I can't show him off in front of my friends, I can't invite my best friend to events and you have no idea how much Thomas means to me. He has been there throughout it all and I don't know where I'd be without him. Kurt makes me smile wider and walk taller and sing better and feel actually good about myself... and that's who I am when I'm with him. Myself and yes I am a man, regardless of what Dad thinks."

Monica was crying. She fished in her bag, finding a folded tissue and used it to dab her eyes. "I've failed you," she mumbled and extended an arm to wrap around Blaine's shoulder tightly.

He swallowed, his throat dry and thick. There wasn't a reply possible to her admission. "I can't talk to dad."

"I know," she whispered against his hair, her finger smoothing his curls in a way she hadn't done since he was a child. He sighed into her shoulder, closing his eyes. She smelled of Lily of the Valley perfume, her hair tickling his cheek as she spoke. "I will talk to him. You don't have to worry. Please apologise to Kurt for me. I'm sure I made a terrible impression."

"Kurt's not one to judge mom."

She pulled her purse over her shoulder and stood taller. The dimmer switch behind her eyes moved to a wider beam, her face relaxing slightly. "I want you to call me. I want us to talk again like we used to."

"What about dad?" he asked, somewhat taken aback.

It was as if she was choosing the words with inextricable care, every syllable precise and with force and conviction. "Let me deal with your father Blaine. You live your life and enjoy your time here. I owe you that much."

With that, Monica leaned forward with her hand firm against her son's shoulder and softly kissed his cheek. After months and months of feigned memories of his mother, Blaine felt one step closer to knowing her again.

-.-.-.-.-.-

The corridors were no longer bustling and the car park was empty once more. Sylvie had revisited Blaine's room and said her goodbyes until the next holiday. The twinkle in her eyes told Blaine all he needed to know regarding his mother's 'seeing the light' and there was no doubt about it any longer that Sylvie Dawson was the world's most formidable woman. He owed her that CD of his songs more than ever.

Blaine was dressed in his more comfortable clothes; the blazer hung up lovingly for another evening, and followed the noise to the senior commons. He could hear singing- one voice louder than the others- and began to laugh as he leaned against the door frame and took in the scene unfolding in the centre of the room.

_To hand crafted beers made in local breweries  
To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese  
To leather, to dildos to curry vindaloo  
To huevos rancheros and Maya Angelou_

Certain of the more formal Warblers sat stiffly wide eyed and in shock but most were swaying or leaping alongside Kurt, Wes, David, George and Henry. George's sexuality was always undefined- Blaine was sure knowing the lyrics to La Vie Boheme was a pretty god damned enormous neon flashing arrow kind of hint, especially as he flounced more than Kurt. Henry, being the guy with the sense of humour, didn't seem fazed by not knowing the words and strutted along with energy.

_Emotion, devotion, to causing a commotion  
Creation, vacation, mucho masturbation_

_Compassion, to fashion, to passion when it's new  
To Sontag, to Sondheim, to anything taboo_

Kurt sang loudest, Wes joining in to attempt to compete. Each boy who knew the words provided a line and they played hilariously off each other. They'd had lobotomies in the few hours since the show- it was the only explanation for their ... well, their new found fabulousness. Blaine laughed, rolling his eyes before noticing that Kurt's very tight skin tight plaid trousers weren't inhibiting his movement at all as he shimmied with George across the large wooden table. As his eyes and mind followed them hypnotically, David jumped in front of his face, shocking the life out of him.

"Blaine. This song kills. I mean, it has every word in it, or you know, most of them and it's smart-" he rambled before Wes dragged him sharply back into the hustle and bustle with a wink in Blaine's general direction. Kurt was still entirely unaware of Blaine's presence at the door and it worked. Blaine had the most perfect viewing spot.

_Ginsberg, Dylan, Cunningham and Cage  
Lenny Bruce, Langston Hughes, to the stage  
To Uta, to Buddha, Pablo Neruda, too_

_Why Dorothy and Toto went over the rainbow  
To blow off auntie Em  
La vie boheme_

_Sisters?  
We're close_

Kurt attempted to grab Wes, the other boy's eyes leaping out of their sockets. Kurt just laughed. The easiness with which Kurt smiled made Blaine's heart happy; he wasn't so used to seeing him so free from inhibitions. It was if there was a point to be proven but Kurt didn't even realise he was achieving it as his hands posed, his lips pouted and eyes twinkled in amusement. There was something spectacular about that. Blaine blinked back into reality just as Wes and Kurt jumped up and down, wiggling their shoulders, as the wooden bench creaked beneath them. A few of the other boys were clapping and cheering along now, clearly swept up by the madness.

_Bisexuals, trisexuals, homo sapiens  
Carcinogens, hallucinogens, men, Pee Wee Herman  
German wine, turpentine, Gertrude Stein  
Antonioni, Bertolucci, Kurosawa, Carmina Burana_

The fact Blaine was witnessing sons of esteemed politicians or business men joining in with these words was enough to entertain him for life- where was a video camera when you so desperately needed one?

_To apathy, to entropy, to empathy, ecstasy  
Vaclav Havel, The Sex Pistols, 8BC  
To no shame never playing the fame game  
To marijuana_

_To sodomy, it's between god and me  
To S&M_

_La Vie Boheme!_

As David bopped along, leaning on Kurt at the only word he knew in the entire song, Henry, George and Wes lept in a circle around them, their faces red. Kurt started to laugh at the sight, his sides in pain as he took in the way the guys he knew for being stuffed shirts were now sweating and screeching about 'transexuals' and 'sodomy' or at least clapping along, in a way so uncharacteristic that it was impossible to resist finding it ridiculous. They could not dance to save their lives, they knew a rhythm well but their hips and feet were attuned to side-stepping only. It was as the singing died down due to a roar of laughter and much high fiving, that Kurt noticed Blaine standing in the doorway wearing the goofiest grin and a particularly delicious tight brown plaid shirt.

Blaine's breath hitched as Kurt rushed towards him. The tight pants had made enough of an impression on him without Kurt's rosy cheeks and bold grin. Blaine watched as the boy in question glided to take up the spot by his side, leaning slightly against his arm, and pursed his lips in mock thought.

"Like putty in my hands," Kurt asserted with a self assured flick of his eyebrows over the insanity in front of them. Blaine huffed out a laugh and shook his head, the curls inhibited much to Kurt's happiness.

"Did you drug them?" Blaine asked, bewildered still.

"Just sprinkled a little of my magic. We used to put on impromptu numbers at my old school and I felt particularly sneaky so I took advantage of their mood... again, like putty in my hands," he mused cleverly.

Blaine kept his eyes on Kurt as he watched the boys lark around, taking in his confidence and the way his skin seemed to shine. The other Warblers didn't appear to be paying much attention to anything except a cushion fight which had broken out and a tray of cakes brought in by Isla who ducked as a velvet pillow narrowly missed her head.

Blaine felt lighter. His mother had seen sense and assured him that he was no longer restricted from taking his life into his own hands, he'd spent time with Sylvie and Thomas both in one day and he'd performed with every ounce of energy inside of him. The fact that on top of that, he and Kurt had shared a moment so defining in their relationship that everything had changed, was a little too much to believe. There had been no nerves behind that curtain, no worries about insecurities or their fears, it was just an impulse that both felt and acted upon. It'd felt better than anything Blaine had experienced in a long long time but standing mapping every detail of Kurt was proving to be just on par. He knew he was in trouble – he didn't just like Kurt, he was so ridiculously _into_ him that Wes could have developed a second head or Neil Patrick Harris could have waltzed in wearing only a tie and his mind would not have flickered for a second. Kurt had his heart. The trouble was, Blaine wasn't all too sure that Kurt knew how much.

"Earth to Blaine," Kurt sang, snapping his fingers with a searching smile, "oh you are alive, hi!"

Blaine chuckled, motioning for Kurt to step out of the door for a second. He obeyed with a courteous nod. "I wanted to ask you something," Blaine began.

In the dim light of the corridor, Kurt's mind raced back to the night of the Snow Ball. Things had changed so drastically since then, his heart was still catching up with his head and nothing made any sense anymore. Everything was just one emotional moment after another, one sharp fleeting moment of pain or a soaring dream-like few minutes but then it'd be gone and Kurt would be left reeling and wondering how the hell he fitted into it all. Not that he disliked the drama or excitement, it was thrilling in moderation, but he was used to watching Quinn or Finn travel through such mess and crazy, not himself. He had no idea how to catch up with his own inner monologue screaming pointless insecurities or recoiling in panic from fear of exposing too much and there was Blaine, so solid and sure who, even after feeling low and anxious, looked the picture of composure. The added ingredient of pesky hormones flitting about inside so fickle and addictive causing him to sigh and breathe in without remembering the 'out' part, was just too much to handle.

Kurt knew what he wanted, no, needed. He craved time alone with Blaine just something simple so that they could fit into their own rhythm, free from distractions. As he looked into the other boy's eyes, he wanted a day spent lost in them to understand truly what was going on and how he felt because his swooning heart was too captivated to process anything serious in the short moments they'd been given so far.

"Ask away," Kurt replied, stepping a smidgen closer and enjoying the way Blaine did the same.

"Well," Blaine started, his fingers reaching out to find Kurt's sweetly, "as you know I'm always one for tradition," he swallowed, "so I wanted to know if you'd like to go on a date. With me."

Kurt's eyes lit up, his entire body standing taller. "An actual date?" He let his brain catch up, knowing he'd never ever considered that he'd have a first date. It'd always been other people taking a potential boyfriend or girlfriend to Breadsticks. The closest he'd gotten to joining in with such occasions was helping chose an outfit for Tina or listening to Finn's mindless rants about the cute way Rachel ate spaghetti. Other people did dates.

"An actual date," Blaine confirmed with a slow smile. Kurt just couldn't tear his eyes away. Blaine was so handsome when he was serious, his eyes strengthening and speaking for him but most of all, his voice drawled out notes that would melt butter. Kurt was sure his spine tingled from the sheer fact that every sentence was considered and usually littered with words so refined. Kurt nodded quick, making sure his silence wasn't misconstrued as hesitation, causing Blaine to grin wider.

"I just thought, things have happened so quickly and in a really unconventional order and plus, we haven't had a date, not a proper one."

Kurt glanced down. "I, um, well this would be my first."

Blaine ducked, his hand reaching for Kurt's chin and tipping it up. "I know," he urged soothingly with a warm smile, "that's why I asked you. You deserve a proper first date. The way it should be."

There it was, Blaine's inability to be anything other than a complete gentleman. Kurt felt a blanket of tingles wash lightly over his skin. "So where are we going?" he asked, cheeks flushed still and eyes shining with a potent mixture nerves and pure adrenalin.

"Well," Blaine considered as his hands found Kurt's fully and threaded themselves like puzzle pieces, "it's the weekend tomorrow and we have the full day so I'll come collect you in the morning and it'll be a surprise."

Kurt beamed back. "Ok," he agreed, bending his knees eagerly, "but promise me you'll let me know what I need to wear?"

It was with a fond chuckle of agreement that Blaine led Kurt back into the Warbler madness. Tomorrow would be a day to remember, he would make sure of it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_**I know this Chapter is odd in that it doesn't have any major Kurt/Blaine scenes but as you'll be getting two/possibly three solid Kurt and Blaine intense Chapters to come, I thought I'd post this one now as I hadn't posted in a day or so. I've been very busy with getting ready to travel back home to my little flat after the holidays so I'm SO sorry about the delay. The next chapter is half written so the wait should not be long at all!**_

_**Thank you for sticking with me. I ALWAYS worry that people will begin to get disinterested. I know there a LOT of chapters here but most of my Chapters have been around the 3,000 mark so the story's not EPICALLY long but I do get concerned I may lose readers and their interest. Please let me know if you feel this.**_

_**I won't be dragging on the story pointlessly, I know EXACTLY what's going to happen and how it will end but I just need to get there so, if it's what people still want, then I'll write it. DEFINITELY. I adore writing it :D**_

_**For those who aren't familiar with the musical Rent, which I'm sure many of you are, then the song used is "La Vie Boheme". It's one of my cherished songs from any musical (and being a huge Broadway/West End theatre geek from an early age) that says a lot. It makes you happy about LIFE and you THINK... signs of a great song. Go listen if you haven't heard it!**_

_**Anyway, ramble over. I'm eternally grateful for your wonderful reviews and HELLO to those new readers AND a couple of my lovely friends in America have started to read too (hello, you know who you are, i love you lots!). The next Chapter is full of, oh god fluff and lots of it... one of my favourite Chapters so far and will be posted either tomorrow or early the day after : )**_


	27. Rosy Cheeks

_**First of all, I'm SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. I've explained at the end but I'm sorry for keeping you guys waiting and hope you're still with me...**_

_**So... we're on Chapter 27. Seriously? Good god. It's TERRIBLY scary. I just can't thank you enough for your lovely lovely lovely words. Over 600 reviews and increasing every day... **_

_**So, where most of this ultra shameless fluff came from, I have no idea. Ask my pathetically soppy subconscious ;)**_

_**Someone commented on me writing a story about a young gay teenager and how I somehow managed to tap into his emotions. Firstly, I'm flattered that you even think I do! Secondly, I'm 21, straight and female so I can imagine why it seems weird. My Uncle is gay, two of my very best friends chose me as the first person they told about their sexuality ... so I guess I have some first hand experience of the feelings and anxieties normal at Kurt's age. Mainly though, it's not the fact he's gay that's even the major thing. It's just quite a small thing I think. I see the emotions as pretty much universal when it comes to never having had those experiences and being nervous of them- you don't have to be gay to feels those things. Obviously, their struggles have a LOT to do with being gay (Blaine's family and Kurt's struggle with being bullied because of it) but, I guess I started writing this story because I felt like I understood a lot of Kurt, the fact he's fabulous and I was intrigued by Blaine. That's it really ;) Got very little, if anything, to do with the fact they're gay!**_

_**I missed a name from the previous chapter... I had to thank court4short – your messages never fail to make me smile, ha! Don't be crazy, as Darren once alluded to... don't think you're creepy or a stalker, I'm the one writing about fictional characters with more fluff than a bunny ;) **_

_**Oh and look who worked out that there was a 'horizontal ruler' to separate posts... haha how embarrassing!  
**_

_**So, without further ado ...**_

_**

* * *

**_

As Kurt draped his curtains back, receiving a happy 'good morning' chirp from Pavarotti, he legitimately had absolutely no idea what Blaine had in store for him. It was exciting but also un-nerving. As a person attuned to being in control, Kurt wasn't so sure he liked being at someone else's whim. He smiled though and wandered into his bathroom to begin his morning regime.

* * *

"So you're taking him where?" Wes asked, sitting drinking the biggest mug of coffee on his bed.

"I forgot what it was like when you stayed here. Do you ask David so many questions when you stay there?"

Wes frowned. "David asks the questions. I listen like the good friend I am."

Blaine scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "You are incapable. Anyway, it's none of your business where I'm going today."

"Dude, it's your first date with our new kid, you can't blame me for being curious. You're taking him to a museum aren't you? So you can impress him with your knowledge of renaissance art? Or a park so you can marvel at the landscaping or impressive flora?"

Blaine peeked his head around the bathroom door. "I swear if you don't shut up you'll be wearing that coffee in three seconds flat." That seemed to keep Wes quiet for more than a few minutes. "So," Blaine asked as he stood in the centre of the room with his arms out at his sides, "how do I look?"

Wes glanced away pointedly, his eyes flying out to the window, eyebrows raised in mock indignation. "You told me to shut up remember? I'm obeying like the good roommate I am."

"You barely sleep here Wes, I'd hardly class you as a roommate, more like a regular visitor. Look, just tell me if I look stupid."

Wes glanced judgementally and wrinkled his forehead. "Lose the gel and those shoes are ridiculous. Apart from that, you look like you always do... like you're off to play golf at a country club."

It was like Wes had slapped him in the face. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

As Wes shuffled to the edge of the bed, he placed his coffee down on his table and huffed. Time to play Queer eye.

"The shirt and sweater combo. The safe jeans. The gelled hair. The preppy shoes. My grandmother would find you extremely dashing."

If he wasn't averse to violence, Blaine was sure he'd have hit Wes right away. "What else am I going to wear? I spend most days in my blazer so sorry if I don't look as if I'm straight off a catwalk in Milan."

"Look dude," Wes began, "I've seen that kid's labels. Make an effort and I swear he'll do that eye thing he does when he sees you, you know, the 'I want to eat you up' stare thing with the lip biting. You know the one?" Blaine's face rushed through a number of emotions as he nodded, mainly embarrassment, dismissiveness and fondness before resting in a frown again. Wes was making too much damn sense. "So try again kemosabe."

It took twenty minutes and Blaine was sure he'd nailed it. He tried, he really did, attempting to team colours together and a fit that suited him. It'd been a long time since he'd really thought about an outfit but for Kurt, he didn't want to look anything other than his very best. It was a foregone conclusion that the other boy would look the very height of Winter fashion so there was a need for serious effort.

"Ok. If you don't like _this_," Blaine said firmly, standing once again in the centre of the room, "then I give up."

Wes had picked up a book and was thumbing through it aimlessly but as he glanced up, taking in Blaine's attire, he smiled. "If I was gay I'd do you."

Silence reigned for a second as Blaine shook his head in shock. Wes could render even the chattiest person utterly speechless. "Not the most demure compliment I've ever had but I'll take it," Blaine droned out, still unable to believe his own straight 'roommate' had been so blunt. He slid his scarf around his neck after a brief look out of the window – clear and crisp. Perfect. "Well, as always Wesley it's been a pleasure," he called, heading for the door.

"No trouble bro, always glad to help," he muttered, now mindlessly ensconced in the random book.

* * *

Kurt pulled his favourite deep green scarf over his head and tugged, positioning it perfectly and threading the loose end through the loop. He stood back, surveying the ensemble, and smiled contentedly. Whatever Blaine had in store... Kurt's outfit would do. He'd opted for his long deep grey Mac, his favourite tight deep blue jeans and his black boots- all of which hadn't come cheap.

He heard a faint knock in his door so with a quick stroke of Pavarotti and a top up of his dried berries, Kurt opened up. It was all he could do to breathe right.

"Morning," Blaine sang softly, "you ready to go?"

Kurt still had no words. Blaine looked... well, he looked hot. Really really really hot. His hair was, as Kurt had enforced upon him, looser which was enough in itself but as Kurt glanced down, he felt himself staring widely. The jeans were dark brown, fitted but not too slim, and in an odd material reminiscent of corduroy, which had the potential to be a disaster but was so far from it, not when teamed with worn but still clean sneakers; on his torso Blaine had a slim fitting black sweater lined at the neck and cuffs in an emerald green. The autumnal colours brought out the tarnished brown of his eyes and caused him to look positively edible. Kurt realised he still hadn't spoken.

"Um yes," he stuttered out, suddenly a hell of a lot more nervous than he'd envisaged, "I'm ready."

He was. Definitely. Kurt wanted to venture out into public for the first time with a guy and be proud, however, this was bigger now- that guy would be Blaine and he looked like something from a fall catalogue. Suddenly Kurt felt excited to show him off. "You could have made more of an effort," he stated in a last ditch attempt to avoid looking as if he were drooling unattractively.

Blaine smiled fondly, storing a reminder to thank Wes for being such an ass because it was worth every second for the look on Kurt's face. "Sarcasm _this_ early in the morning," Blaine chimed sarcastically himself, "not like you at all."

Kurt knew that the day was going to be impossible if Blaine retained this dashingly handsome, self depricating, funny, charming, cheeky and flipping perfect persona. He needed to see a flaw and he needed it stat.

"Ok then smart ass, where are we going?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"It's all part of the Master plan Kurt. Just let me take the reigns. You don't need to do anything today other than enjoy yourself."

Dammit, Kurt thought, Blaine was very nearly a control freak until he said that end part. Being someone usually relied upon to plan, conceptualise, control and lead, it felt nice if a bit disconcerting to be somewhat powerless.

Blaine had it all organised in his mind, even down to the very tiny details but also knew that if a spontaneous moment presented itself that he'd be happy to go with it. The fact he was actually going on a first date with Kurt was weird as spending so much time together had caused them to be so used to each other's company for days at a time- this was new though as it was a day solely dedicated to them.

Kurt felt himself smile coyly at all of Blaine's little gestures like opening the car door for him or turning up the heating in the car so he didn't get cold. Kurt sighed happily at the fact that Blaine was thoughtful, which was something he was not all that used to. Finn's answer to chivalry was resisting touching Rachel's boobs- end of story.

As they pulled up in a local town, one which Kurt was entirely unfamiliar with, Blaine once again opened the door for Kurt. He was nervous in the knowledge that Kurt had never experienced a first date, wanting it to be perfect and to do all of the things he'd cherished so much the first time around. Blaine found himself wondering if he should just reach for Kurt's hand and hold it as they walked but there was an air of tension since leaving Dalton- it all seemed very real. He'd have done it at any other time and without a second thought but the whole purpose of the day and the meaning behind it made even the smallest actions so much more important. He held back, instead feeling his hand naturally rest against the small of Kurt's back as he steered him in the right direction.

"Wow, it's pretty," Kurt sighed out as his eyes scanned the view in front of him.

The sign declared 'Astronaut Grove'. It seemed an odd name for something so quaint and secluded but nevertheless, it did not take anything away from the over-hanging trees weighed down with snow, the reeds frozen solid like crystal poking through the sheet white ice of the lake in the centre. A few couples and some small children were skating freely, some tottering before falling, but Kurt felt himself staring. He'd never been ice-skating before- another first.

"So," Blaine said suddenly, positioning himself in front of Kurt, "you still with me?"

Kurt couldn't move nevermind answer questions. He felt himself still gawping, mouth open a little, taking in the glittering landscape.

"Um. We're going on... there?" he asked, suddenly very aware that his jeans alone cost him half a year's worth of allowance and were, for all intent and purpose, his most favourite pair. A pair not designed for sliding across sheet ice in minus temperatures. He shook his head, the worries falling freely, as Blaine slid his arm, once again, along the curve of his lower back. It felt so very nice.

"Yes, but only if you really want to."

Kurt bit his lip. "It's just I've never really done that before."

Blaine's eyes widened. "What? Never?" It was difficult to believe. Kurt had more grace than world class ballet dancers had in their little fingers and he'd never experienced ice skating. Blaine smiled wide. "You're going to love it."

A small booth had been set up alongside the lake and Blaine visited it, leaving Kurt at the water's edge poking the snow with his shoe, an expression of deep concern painting his face. Blaine knew he'd love it, he knew he'd be good at it and, most of all, it'd be fun even if none of that became reality.

"Got you the shiny pair," Blaine chimed, sitting down on the helpful bench as Kurt blinked out of his daze. A small pair of patent white skates were perched close by.

He smiled and sat close to Blaine, enjoying how he always felt so warm even when they didn't touch. "They match my outfit," Kurt said dreamily, glancing up at the other boy and wondering how in hell he got to be so thoughtful.

"Well the fear's written all over your face and we're not on the ice yet. I was worried what you'd do if I gave you the battered ones." The smile in his voice was evident as Kurt nudged him playfully, feeling the trademark shiver of pleasure up his spine. Regardless of how ruined his cherished jeans would be and how stupid he'd look spending an inevitable amount of time lying on the ice, Kurt was sure he did not wish to be anywhere else in the world.

As they laced their boots, Blaine reaching over to help Kurt's shaky fingers, it felt domestic. Kurt watched through the falls of Blaine's hair as he ducked down and could see the concentration in the other boy's face, the honest to god seriousness with which he looped and pulled the laces. He was trying so hard and Kurt could see it.

"Ready?" Blaine asked, standing up expertly in his own skates without a single wobble. Kurt inwardly groaned- he couldn't add 'bad ice skater' to Blaine's non-existent list of flaws.

"As I'll ever be," he mumbled, placing his hand hard against the wooden bench and easing himself up. He felt his feet slide and arms fly outwards immediately without even a shade of elegance. "Oh my g-" he muttered frantically and grabbed tight and fast to the first thing he laid his hands on.

As he opened his eyes feeling support, warm and steadying, around him, Blaine was close- very close. "You need to center yourself. Lean into the motion instead of against it and do not, whatever you do, close your eyes." Blaine words were warm on his cheek sending cascades of tingles over his body, even under the many layers. Blaine smiled cheekily. "Ready to try again?"

Kurt pursed his lips and nodded stiffly, attempting to remain vertical and composed. As Blaine steadied him, his arm firm around his waist, Kurt took small and gradual steps until they were standing on the ice itself. Kurt noticed a small girl, not older than six, shoot past, her little legs moving swiftly and in expert patterns. "If a little kid can do it," Kurt asserted, full of confidence, "then I can too."

They began slowly, Blaine teaching him the best position for the feet, the motion that pushes you forward and, most importantly, the correct amount of lean. Blaine had to stifle the odd giggle when Kurt either swore under his breath or huffed at young girl he'd nicknamed 'The Precocious Child'. It was fun, playing and experimenting together in a place so pretty it was hard to compute.

"How are you so good at this?" Kurt whined with a bemused look as Blaine slid his hand down the other boy's arm to grasp his hand tight. Kurt's arm stiffened as he felt himself alone on the ice, merely connected at one point of contact.

Blaine chuckled, his hand gripping tighter and steadying at each tiny wobble. "Sylvie. She's pretty good herself. There's not much my grandmother hasn't attempted."

"I've only been roller blading with the New Directions once and not that it will be a surprise to you but my father's never attempted figure skating so I'm definitely what you'd call a newbie."

Blaine smiled affectionately. Kurt's 'concentration face' was adorable, his lips pressed together, brow furrowed cutely and eyes never leaving the ice. "Well you're doing great. You want to try by yourself?"

"No no no no no no don't you go anywhere," Kurt demanded, clinging to Blaine's arm again and sliding himself closer, "keep hold of my hand."

Those words did things to Blaine that he wasn't ready for. It was comforting in the oddest way being asked to stay close.

"Ok, I promise," Blaine soothed earnestly. They skated together for just over half an hour, Kurt getting much more confident and even being able to skate himself with Blaine's fingers barely touching his own. He still couldn't venture on his own but Blaine was sure to keep letting him know how amazing he was doing.

"Ok we need to give the skates back in ten. Before we go, you're going to skate towards me without me holding onto you."

Kurt's eyes flew open wide. "No, don't you dare," he warned, his fingers digging into Blaine's arm. He felt himself tense in panic, refusing to let go.

"Look," Blaine chuckled, "you're skating alone and I was barely touching you. Just try. You can definitely do it. Trust me."

Kurt scowled playfully. "Why did you have to say that? Now I have to do it."

Kurt watched Blaine's self satisfied grin followed up with a tiny smirk. "I won't let you fall."

The cold air had caused Kurt's cheeks to flush pink, his lips to turn paler and his eyes to sparkle brighter. Blaine was sure being so close to him was a serious health hazard. He was so mind-blowingly 'pretty' for a guy that it was almost unfair to everyone else, especially when Kurt was so pleading and petulant and god damned adorable.

"You promise you won't let me fall?"

Blaine held up fingers in a mock sign. "Scouts honour," he declared with a warm smile. The way Kurt studied him intently with the soul purpose of spotting a flicker of insincerity in his eyes made Blaine almost squirm- those eyes. "Honestly, I promise. I'm not like a dad who's teaching his kid to ride a bike and who lets go. I'll be here right in front of you."

Kurt kept his eyes on Blaine. The other boy was the picture of honesty, not to mention the fact he looked as if he'd materialised off a schmaltzy Christmas card straight into real-life. He was so scrumptiously handsome surrounded by the shimmering white snow, all wrapped in his scarf and coat. There was no way Kurt was going to say no to that.

"Ok," he forced out, instantly regretting it but as he glanced to Blaine, he shot him a look that unmistakeably said '_I'm not pleased about this but I'm doing it for you'_.

Blaine chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Ok, just stay still and I'll skate ahead of you. All you need to do is skate towards me like we've been practising."

"Easier said than done _Scott Hamilton_," Kurt whined with laughing eyes, "you're not going to be the one picking shards of ice out of their hair."

Blaine was giggling now, actual giggles, watching Kurt keep his hands to his sides, glaring in exaggerated fear. He was impossibly cute when he was irritable and even more then it was put on for show. "Not that you're dramatic at all," he teased, winking in Kurt's direction only to receive a glare back.

"Oh a date," Kurt spoke to the wind as he prepared himself, "yes of course Blaine. I'll share my very first date ever with you. I thought a movie, dinner, shopping, a theatre show, a concert perhaps but no. My very first date _ever_ is standing on top of a frozen lake, which _by the way_ I heard crack before, in the middle of I don't know where wearing my most expensive pair of jeans and feeling unmentionably terrified that at any second my feet with slip from under me and I'll break a bone, ruin my clothes and that precocious little child will skate past laughing as her whizzy little legs expertly twirl her off into the distance."

Blaine couldn't breathe- his stomach was beginning to hurt, his cheeks aching. It was far too hilarious. Kurt was frozen to the spot, ranting as he shuffled on the ice slightly in an attempt to stay upright and composed. He was fine, he wasn't going to slip because Blaine knew he'd reach out in a second to stop him but still, Kurt could not be convinced. Watching him huff and puff and complain in the most animated way, all eyes and pouts, Blaine was sure he fell in love with him a little more.

"Ready?"

"No Blaine, no I'm not ready," was his reply, snappy and almost laughing.

As the only skating family left the ice, Blaine positioned himself facing Kurt, his arms out slightly. "Ok, just do what I taught you. Push off with your right, lean into the motion but don't close your eyes. You can do it."

"Oh god," Kurt groaned, his hands still outstretched and shaking a little, "if you let me fall I'm never speaking to you again."

Blaine started to laugh again, knowing he had to keep it together to focus but he couldn't stop his eyes from misting over as he laughed harder. "I'm here. Go." With eyes wide and frantic, Kurt took a deep breath and tentatively moved his right foot in a sliding motion. It was all so quick as he looked as if he was going to fall, his hips wobbling and hands grasping at thin air but in a second, he leaned forward a fraction and slid smoothly. Blaine noted the look of accomplishment in his eyes as he tried again, each time stronger and with more confidence. "That's perfect."

Only half a metre from Blaine, Kurt felt his right leg slide a centimetre too far, his other leg too slow to react and before he knew it he was shuddering and flailing his arms. "Oh g-"

Blaine was there in a second. His arms flew out to catch just under Kurt's arms, pulling him up in an instant without anything having to hit the ground. Kurt was breathing heavily, his eyes screwed shut and legs shaking. "You're ok. You're fine. You did good," he cooed gently, the humour still in his voice.

"I hate you," Kurt breathed out, eyes still closed and brow furrowed deep. Blaine couldn't resist. The pale pink blush on Kurt's cheek was now deeper and almost perfectly round causing him to look cherubic. He was glowing. It was too much to handle in one go; Blaine loved the feistiness and catty comments, the way he wouldn't let anything beat him, the inner strength all melded together underneath an exterior of blissful innocence. It was almost too good to be true- Kurt was too good to be true- so he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to the other boys gently. It was as if he needed them desperately.

The warmth was the first thing Kurt felt. He didn't open his eyes but gasped in slight shock. He felt Blaine's lips on his, teasing and slow, a hint of a grin forming gently. "I hate you," he mumbled again into the kiss, his heart swooping in his chest sending tidal waves of something precious over his skin. He was about to swoon, his brain slowly turning to mush and limbs losing their resolve but couldn't let Blaine get away with everything. He was about to protest again, a giggle close to escaping, when Blaine kissed him harder; he felt arms wrap themselves around his waist and hold tight, the heat from a body so close made his skin shudder through to his core. Damn Blaine for being so sexy, damn him for standing by his promise, damn him for being so much of a gentleman... just, damn him.

"No you don't," Blaine murmured, slow and woozy as his lips gradually lifted.

Blaine had to breathe to bring himself back down to Earth. Kurt's eyes were glazed and a tiny hint of a smile tugged at his lips- he was mesmerising. Blaine watched as he closed his eyes, his face relaxing and laughing out his huffiness with a smirk so adorable it caused his own heart to swell to twice the size.

Kurt couldn't help it. He'd dreamt of his very first date: who it'd be with, where they'd go, how he'd manage to get through it without collapsing with nerves, what they'd do, what the topics of conversation would be and how well they'd get on. As Kurt stood there, the heat from Blaine's body thawing out his fingers pressed into the other boy's scarf, the snow-filled landscape all around them as the sky darkened slightly... it was a moment he knew he'd never ever forget. It wasn't a pretentious restaurant where they'd ordered something cliché and shared desert only to return home underwhelmed, it wasn't a theatre show where they'd sat in the dark and been unable to interact- it was unique, idiotic, fun and completely perfect.

He couldn't move, not because he would fall and not because he wanted to leave, but because it meant breaking the moment. Instead he leaned closer and pressed his head against Blaine's shoulder, his arms bunched up between them. Regardless of Kurt's added height, it was tight and cosy, the world shrinking in seconds and only existing bubble-like around them.

Blaine blinked back as Kurt snuggled to him. He smiled lovingly, understanding exactly what Kurt was trying to say in actions rather than words. He'd worried that his plans for the day wouldn't be what Kurt had expected and felt those nerves as they'd pulled up but it didn't even matter where they were now- it transpired that as long as they were together, it was always going to be great.

"Blaine?" Kurt whispered into the folds of scarf.

"Mmmm hmmm?"

"I can't feel my toes."

Blaine began to laugh, his heart skipping. He leaned back, looking into Kurt's glinting eyes and tapped a gloved finger to the boy's nose. "Ok then, onto our next adventure?"

Kurt's eyes startled. "There's more?"

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

**

* * *

**

_**Wow guys that was a BITCH to write. Not because I didn't WANT to or didn't know HOW to but because I had THE roughest week and felt pretty yucky so there was NO way I was able to write fluffy happy stuff. It felt like I was having to force myself and it wasn't coming out right. I REALLY didn't want to disappoint but I knew that if I could get myself to write something, that it'd be awful and completely devoid of any emotion and depth. I eventually found my words again and managed to write it and, in the end, really enjoyed it all... ! I'm SO sorry for the delay and I promise you won't be waiting as long next time. **_

_**Thank you to EVERYONE who sent messages and to those who are STILL commenting and reviewing. Your words mean the world. Thank you.**_


	28. Awareness

_**It's inevitable but here goes... wow. You used to me saying that yet? THANK YOU for sticking with me. I worried SO much that the previous chapter wasn't good enough or was lacking in some way because I'd had to really push myself to write it. To hear your responses was just amazing so thank you. Also, a big thanks for those who wished me a better week (there was no need for you to but you still did, which is far too sweet!). I'm off home back to my little flat and I almost can't wait (even if it means I'm back to my sticking my head in big dusty law books)!**_

_**This one is just shameless. It's utter sappiness but I really hope it's not hideously cheesy. The line I think (hope) you'll all love has been sitting waiting in my document of ideas for a while now and I knew a moment would appear when it felt right to use it. It makes me SO happy when people leave a message which says I manage to avoid the cliché at times but still keep it fluffy – I really try hard and it's the way I naturally am. Jane Austen is my life, she's my inspiration. I've always had her words, so witty, poignant and bitingly honest, in my mind and heart... I guess I've always seen love and life like she did, in many ways, and she was one to avoid the hideous cliché but still find the heart. Not that I'm comparing myself to Jane Austen (jesus Christ no!) but I always put my view of emotions down to her! : )**_

_**Again, for those who read 'Dalton' – anyone else sob like a pathetic wet rag? I'll join your club. Oh man, the ending sequence read like a film. I really admire clever writing that can evoke emotion and I don't care what people have said about it being over-rated etc (they're in the significant minority though). For someone to write a fan story that people genuinely respect and end up in tears at is outstanding, never mind the fact that a large proportion of readers now don't read solely for Kurt/Blaine. I don't! I read for Shane and Reed *sigh* ;) Wow, ramble. Just thought I'd include that here as I read it today and it's stuck with me!**_

_**PLEASE NOTE: FFnet has being playing up recently. Chapters have not been showing up and fics have been delayed vastly in updating ... be patient as it does all correct itself in time! If you're having problems viewing a Chapter, please let me know!  
**_

_**I hope you like this instalment (a little shorter than others but the next is MUCH longer)– sending big special hugs this time to anyone who has been reading with me from Day 1. With 700 reviews, many many tens of thousands of hits and 28 chapters, I am so thankful.**_

_**

* * *

**_

As they climbed back into the car, Kurt felt himself sigh happily. He'd never spent a day with entirely one person where the single aim was to have fun and enjoy each other's company. Days usually had a more specific meaning such as 'help someone' or 'buy something'. It felt strange knowing that he had nobody to impress except Blaine and, well, he knew he was in safe hands there.

They hadn't surpassed the point where they were free and easy with each other yet, a sense of tension still remaining to crackle under the surface. Kurt had no idea _what_ they were, he didn't know if Blaine even wanted a relationship, if he himself would be any good at one and was horribly confused as to how to broach the subject without sounding twelve years old or risking their already amazing companionship.

Kurt glanced over to Blaine in the driver's seat. The slight Winter sun caused his skin to pale in comparison but it suited him, his dark curls contrasting in a way that made him appear almost majestic. Kurt felt his mind wander oddly to an afternoon he'd spent with his mother.

* * *

_"I'll be through in a second sweetie, you press play."_

_It was their Sunday afternoon movie. She'd always cherished the weekends when Kurt was all hers as Burt worked to catch up on the week's back log at the garage._

"_Mom can we watch the one about the princess?" Kurt asked, pulling himself to nestle in the large purple cushions littering their couch._

_Elizabeth appeared holding a large brown bowl full of warm buttery popcorn. "For you sweetie," she cooed, smoothing down his hair and planting a kiss as her hand lifted free, "anything."_

_She'd known Kurt was not your average five year old. He wasn't into Action Men and football games like other boys his age but instead would sing, dance, draw elegant pictures of slender girls in gowns so lavish that she knew his imagination was vast and wildly developed... he was different but he was unique and she loved him all the more for it. Knowing that he had struggled to make friends easily because of this had always caused her pain and anxiety. He was loving and affectionate, creative and intelligent but other kids didn't see those things- they wanted someone to roll around in the mud with and Kurt did not like to be dirty. She simply wanted him to be happy and to find someone, anyone, who would look through their differences and see the sweet boy underneath._

_The music started up, lilting and swelling forth from the television set, as she sat down by Kurt on the couch and placed the bowl between them, smiling as he sneakily leaned in behind it and cuddled her arm. She sighed and kissed her son's head once more, watching him gasp at Cinderella dancing with a broom._

"_I want to sing when I'm older," he'd said, sure and with an abundance of confidence._

"_You have a beautiful voice. I can't wait to hear you sing and come to all of your concerts. I'd buy your album too," she'd laughed, tickling him playfully._

"_I'll wear nice clothes and sing a song for you," he'd assured her, patting her arm before turning back to the movie. _

_As the movie drew to a close, Kurt had turned to her, eyes wide and sparkly. "Does everyone get married?" he asked. It was a simple question but one that Elizabeth was clearly careful to answer._

"_Not everyone sweetheart but that's sometimes because they don't want to and there are also many other reasons why someone might not get married but if you find someone that you love and they love you back then there is no reason why you can't live a happy life together. You don't need to get married to do that though."_

_He'd thought about that for a second, his eyes alert and focused on the closing scenes of the movie. "Do you think someone will sing to me and love me like the Prince loves Cinderella? Like dad loves you?"_

_Elizabeth wrapped her arm tight around Kurt's middle and squeezed him to her. "That's one of the things I wish most for you and when it does happen, which it will, I hope it's everything you've ever dreamed of."_

_

* * *

_

That was their last Sunday together.

He felt himself blink back into the car, his eyes filling and lips quivering of their own accord. Kurt panicked, sneaking a dab at them with his hand.

Blaine was oblivious, his keen eyes on the road in the icy conditions, and Kurt was grateful for being spared the embarrassment of crying on their lovely day. It was the hair and the bone structure and the eyes and smile and smart way of dressing...

Blaine looked like the men he used to draw when he was small, the ones standing beside his princess with their shoulders back and a delighted smile painting their faces proudly. It was weird to realise, mainly because it was inexplicably cheesy but mostly because he'd been four and five years old at the time. The only difference was that Blaine was real, he was tangible and human.

Kurt sighed and lay his head back on the seat.

"You still cold?" Blaine asked, suddenly drifting out of his own head.

Kurt grinned, small and at ease. "I'm good thanks." He watched Blaine nod happily then turn back to the road. He wanted to say something, to explain to Blaine how much this day meant and how, regardless of his strops and idiocy on the ice, he was having the best time. He felt many phrases tug at his lips but instead spoke the first that came to mind and one that he meant with all of his heart.

"My mom would have loved you, you know?"

Blaine's breathing shuddered. He was grateful for the stop lights turning red for a second as he slowed and turned his head to the left. "_Kurt._"

There were no other words to say, not when someone pays you the biggest and most beautiful compliment. He didn't believe it for a second but the very fact that Kurt had chosen a spontaneous moment to say such a thing had meant the world. Blaine half smiled feeling his eyes fill a little as he took in the expression on Kurt's face. The aching honesty in his eyes was penetrating, never mind the lopsided smile he wore so the fact that Blaine managed to begin to drive again as the lights changed was a feat in itself.

"It's ok you know," Kurt assured, his voice small, "I don't mind talking about her. I was just thinking about something she'd said that's all."

Blaine's eyes softened further. He wanted to stop the car and scoop Kurt up into the biggest and most smothering of hugs. "I'm sure I'd have thought she was wonderful," he said gently, "and with a son like you, I bet she was a force to be reckoned with."

Kurt laughed, nuzzling his head into the chair further as he lay on his side to look at Blaine. "She was very pretty and gave the best hugs. I think I forget things about her sometimes and I hate it, it makes me worry that one day I'll forget more and she'll-"

"Kurt," Blaine cut in, "don't even think that. She was your mom. She will always be and you will always have those memories, no matter what."

Kurt swallowed, fighting tears and the thickness creeping up his throat. He'd perfected that now. "I always remember the way she smelled. My dad used to buy her Chanel perfume every Christmas and even though he had to instruct the help of the lady at the counter in the department store and she expected it every year, she still wore it religiously. I know I'll never forget that."

Blaine smiled. "She'd be so proud of you and your father. You are such a team and he's so good to you."

Kurt let out a small bark of a laugh. "My dad always says 'nobody pushes the Hummels around'. He's kind of my hero... even if he does have terrible dress sense and eat artery clogging food."

The moment lingered for a second before a comfortable silence reigned. Before he knew it, Blaine was pulling up in an off-street car park just off a little paved square full of flowers and ornamental plant designs. The black iron railings lined the walkways and directed passers-by into the surrounding cafes and shops. A large birch tree swooped protectively over the tiny square. Kurt held his breath again, wondering how Blaine knew of these wonderful spots.

"You hungry?"

Appearing beside him, Blaine stretched his arms out and relaxed once more, smiling comfortably.

"Starving actually," Kurt replied with a deep breath.

"Well, I have a few choices for you. I hate when people pressure me into the kind of food we eat. I love all three places I'm going to suggest but you let me know which you like," Blaine explained with a hint of tension. He just wanted things to run as smoothly as possible and, if truth be told, he was no expert at dating at all. He didn't even know what their status was and if Kurt wanted him as more than what they were. There were incredible kisses, a couple of pretty intense make-out sessions and _a lot _of feelings, intense feelings flying about, but nothing was set in stone. Blaine was not going to forge ahead and ruin the current perfect equilibrium. "There's a tiny vegan restaurant that sounds bland but the food is incredible. Their chick pea curry is delicious. There's the small renowned sea food bistro but I know it's not to everyone's taste and then there's a place Sylvie took me when she came to stay. It's an Italian restaurant called 'Pedro's' and it serves the most amazing dough balls and tortellini."

"You had me at dough balls," Kurt said, his hands automatically reaching for Blaine's arm and pulling on it.

Blaine chuckled. "Pedro's it is then."

As they began to walk through the square, Kurt let go of Blaine but walked close to him still, their arms brushing every other step but no closer than that. It felt enough for now.

* * *

Kurt kept his eyes on anything other than Blaine. It wasn't because he didn't want to stare into those startling eyes that made him lose his mind, it was more on account of the general public being in open view of everything he and Blaine did. Kurt felt himself tense for the first time all day.

"You ok?" Blaine asked, still perusing the menu but speaking over the rim of it, a look of concern painting his face.

Kurt knew he must have been giving away more than he intended. Blaine had said his eyes were the windows to his soul. Damn them.

"I'm fine. This place is gorgeous."

The waitress had shown them to a booth in the corner of the 'L' shaped interior, encircled by high deep purple leather seats. It was decorated sumptuously, much to Kurt's approval as he noticed the Italian colored glass lamps hung decoratively from the ceiling and the mismatched pottery tiles lining the walls on one side. It felt eclectic but tasteful. It was perfect.

Blaine let his eyes flicker over to Kurt every so often as they sat in an easy silence, attempting to choose something from the lengthy menu. It was obvious he wasn't ok. His eyes were lingering on anything but the words in front of him, his slim fingers sharply drumming on the wooden table and he seemed on edge. Blaine could guess why. He'd been the same the first time he'd ventured out with a guy into a public place- nervous, on edge and just a little bit fearful. Of course the people around were clueless as to anyone's sexual preference and, as far as they were concerned, it could be two male friends out to lunch. That wasn't what Blaine wanted and it wasn't, now, what he was used to. Yes, he'd eaten out with Thomas and known it was a harmless situation but it was different with Kurt. Blaine sighed, thinking about all of the things he wanted to do like hold Kurt's hand over the table the way people do in movies, share a desert with two spoons, snuggle together in the booth under the glow of the lanterns... it was all within reach but frustratingly difficult compared to heterosexual couples.

"They're beautiful," Kurt said, breaking the silence and motioning to the lamps above them, "I've always wanted to import some of the more sought after glass lampshades from foreign countries. They're so intricate and bourgeois."

That was it, Blaine thought fondly, that was the kind of thing he loved. The way Kurt would find interest or beauty in something that others would possibly overlook. He was a details guy, always one for the little things.

Blaine felt himself smiling as the other boy spoke, taking in every syllable and being utterly charmed by the descriptive words and the passion in Kurt's eyes.

"What?" Kurt said suddenly, noticing Blaine staring with an odd expression.

"Just you," Blaine murmured gently, "the way you talk."

Kurt's chest tightened for a second. _Was he boring? Was he going on too much?_ He knew Blaine was so very understanding and easy going with an interest in culture but he had just been talking about lamps- it was hardly a discussion of world-wide politics.

"I can be guilty of being a little too much," he muttered, glancing down at his menu as if it was drawing him in.

Blaine flinched. "Woah woah, that's _not _ what I meant," he urged, reaching out firmly for Kurt's hand and rubbing a small circle gently across the back of it, "I meant that I love the way you talk about the things that interest you, the things you like."

Kurt's mind raced. _'I love the way'_ Blaine had said, Blaine had hold of his hand and he was perfectly ok with hearing Kurt's rambling about interior design. It was too much to process but he knew one thing and that was the fact that a lady from a couple seated to the left of them on a normal, non-booth table, had glanced over with wide eyes before muttering something to her date. It felt like a slap in the face. Her look wasn't sincere or warm, it was one of shock. Kurt felt like a circus freak, an unusual spectacle to behold, but he wasn't- he simply wanted to be left ignored as people did most other couples.

Blaine watched Kurt drag his hand away quickly and blush a deep red. The fact that Kurt was noticeably uncomfortable was difficult to process and painful to watch. He'd suffered far too much in the way of belittling and being told that he was wrong to feel and act in a way that was so normal to him, so much that he was completely unaware that there were still a lot of people in the world who were accepting and entirely comfortable with a gay couple in society. The homophobic sector of society would always be there but there was no way Blaine was going to sit back and allow Kurt to be controlled by his own conditioned thoughts.

"Kurt?"

The other boy glanced up, eyes apologetic. "Yes?"

"I'm going to reach to hold your hand again ok?"

Kurt frowned, his eyes sharpening. "Blaine, I don't-"

"I vowed something recently," Blaine spoke softly, his eyes fixed on Kurt's, "I vowed that I would never let others dictate to me what I was going to do and how I'd live my life. Don't feel as if you have to be someone else or hold back Kurt."

Kurt seemed to think for a second. "I've never done this."

He felt himself recoil in a little, honesty flowing and causing him to close up again. Blaine was sweet and so very thoughtful but it was still difficult, the thought of letting every guard down and not caring a bit about the consequences. The clothes, the sharp wit and incessant passion to perform all required confidence which Kurt knowingly owned in abundance, however, the true inner organic confidence to strip bear and lay yourself out to the world was still too terrifying.

"I know," Blaine soothed with a small duck of his head, "and that's why I don't want this to be awkward. We've never been awkward with each other and I'm not sure I could handle it all that well."

Kurt half smiled, breathing out. "If I was on stage I'd be fine to do my thing but I just feel a little uncomfortable with people looking. I want to say 'to hell with it' and just throw caution to the wind but something's stopping me."

Blaine moved his hands across the table to rest mere millimetres from Kurt's. He wasn't going to make the move himself. "You know all of those things you've been called and the things people have said to you?" Kurt nodded, almost mesmerised, "well, stop letting them in. Stop giving them headspace because they're not worth it. You deserve to have this. I mean I know it's nothing special and we're only in an Italian bistro in Westerville but it's me. I'm not scared and I don't want you to be either."

Kurt felt himself choke up again. Blaine did this to him; he made far too much sense and had an uncanny ability to say the best and most wonderful thing to defuse tension or calm Kurt's racing mind.

"It's not just an Italian bistro. It's my first _first_ date with a guy. I guess I'm just a little nervous."

It was all Blaine could do not to plant the softest kiss on Kurt's cheek, just to reassure him. "Don't be. Like I said, it's me and you, that's all."

Those words meant more to Kurt than he could calculate. He knew that there was nobody he'd rather be with, nobody he trusted more and nobody who could be as gentle and understanding as Blaine. He felt his heart beat faster, forgetting the couple a few metres away, and slid his hands the tiny distance to press on top of Blaine's. In a second, they were threaded together and held tightly. Kurt let out a shuddered breath. "How do you always know what to say to make me feel better?"

Blaine smiled, wide and beaming. "I chalk it up to experience. You think I'm not nervous? You think I'm not mentally freaking out about the fact that I could get spinach in my teeth and you'd think it was horrific or that I could say something that would make me appear terribly uncultured compared to you and your incredibly in-depth knowledge about Italian interior decor? You scare me Kurt," he stated with a breathy laugh, "you scare me in the best way possible but there's no way I'm pulling back or giving up. The things that feel hard are the ones that are worth it."

Kurt was silent. He knew that, without a single doubt in that second, his heart was Blaine's.

"You're wonderful," he whispered, shocking himself as he said it. His heart began beating quicker as his palms, entwined with Blaine's, began to sweat and shake. It was something utterly spontaneous. He was petrified. As Kurt's eyes began to glaze in a mild sense of panic, Blaine let go of his hands and took one, resolutely between his fingers, raising it to his mouth and pressing the softest kiss there. Kurt was sure he physically swooned in relief.

"I'd say ditto but then I'd sound hideously cliché." Blaine's eyes were deep and transfixed, his heart hammering wildly. He had no idea where those words had come from or if Kurt had even intended to say them but they were a glimpse into Kurt's fascinating brain, into his truth, his honesty, his inner monologue that seemed to be on fire at all times but always unspoken.

"I have always had a distinct lack of cliché in my life so you won't hear a complaint from me."

Blaine smirked, his eyes sparkling. "Well then, ditto and may I add something if we're running with the honesty thing?"

The air in Blaine's chest held for a second, his torso vibrating from his violent heart beat. He had to run with it, to push the boundaries that they'd found themselves held at. Kurt wasn't ready to do it himself but there was something in his eyes that reassured Blaine that it wasn't because he didn't want to _yet_ or _at all_ – Kurt had made the first move that afternoon in the senior commons so now it was Blaine's turn to push their relationship. It had no definition and each step had been followed by a complication which threw them off course and limited their ability to just say what they were and put a label on it. There was no requirement to do so, no need to add a name to what they felt but Blaine wanted to. Kurt had never experienced having a boyfriend before, among a few other things, and had, through no fault of his own, experienced the worst kind of abuse- the kind that told you it was wrong to be true to yourself. Not one for bowing down to cruel words and social pressure, Kurt had fought but the remnants were there, plain for Blaine to see. There was a way of reassuring him and showing him that he didn't have to go it alone anymore.

Kurt nodded eventually in response, his eyelashes fluttering with a hint of anticipation. He felt himself breathe in.

"If you're not careful," Blaine began, his words slow, "I'm going to fall completely in love with you."

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

**

* * *

**

_**I swooned myself writing this ;)**_

_**So yes, there's one more 'date' Chapter to go and then we're back to Dalton. **_

_**I HAVE to let you know that the story won't be going on forever (as much as I'd love it to) ... there will be a natural ending and on which I have planned to write. It's not happening quick or anything, but I just wanted people to know that... I'll tell you when it's winding down. Promise : D**_

_**Thank you again for your INSANELY kind words on here, tumblr, Twitter and LJ. They're so cherished and appreciated. **_


	29. Words

_**Well that was a bit of a hiatus! I'm so sorry for the wait... I've returned back to my flat, moved back, began my professional studies and am have been working like a maniac this week to settle back in. Reading silly billion paged law books and arguing in a suit all day has meant I have had zero time and zero energy! Now, with a 4 day weekend and less to do, I can find time to write in between actually having a life, seeing friends and doing nice things! :D**_

_**...and so the next Chapter appears. I DO understand it was probably the WORST Chapter to leave you hanging with BUT I will reassure you that the next Chapter is very very nearly finished so I SHOULD be able to get them out without keeping you guys waiting as long!**_

_**THANK YOU (oh how I sound like a broken record but it needs to be said because it's so very true) for all of the frankly AMAZING comments/messages. For those who added me on tumblr, I am sorry if you followed me expecting for it to only be Glee... and you find a whole load of random pictures of countryside, tea cups, Keira Knightley, Jane Austen quotes, knitting projects, The Office screenshots etc in amongst all of the Darren or Chris or Kurt/Blaine/Burt/Sue etc that's there! **_

_**Also, to those who have just started reading and have left a lovely review telling me how you read it all in one go and stayed up late etc – you're all so lovely :D**_

_**I wrote this listening to so much RANDOM music, a night of legal work induced insomnia, after watching 'CatFish' (for the love of GOD watch that movie, it's incredible) and after sitting in a teeny tiny cafe being served tea by a lovely curly haired waiter who gave me an extra slice of cheesecake. Safe to say, my mood was all over the shop ; )**_

_**I spent the entire train ride back from my family home watching Kurt's entire storyline (which someone so kindly made me) and the Finn/Kurt scenes in Season 1 made this COMPLETELY gut wrenching to write. Those scenes are INCREDIBLE. Cory and Chris are magic together and Kurt's pain- god I feel so much for you guys have it then go re-watch the scenes in 'Ballad' after Finn's sung to Quinn's parents and he's explaining to Kurt what happened on the stage by the piano. When Kurt says "I Honestly Love You" – THAT right there is heart breaking to me. You can SEE how frightened he is to just LET things out. I want to cry EVERY SINGLE time he says "Yes, Better." Chris is just out of this world wonderful.**_

_**Well, here goes Chapter 29 – I REALLY hope you like it! Sending love to EVERYONE who makes this story even MORE fun to write : )**_

_**

* * *

**_

Kurt couldn't move. It was as if the wind had been knocked out of his sails and for a second, no witty one liner made itself known, no words formed at all in fact.

'In love'. What did that even mean? Kurt had never considered that someone could feel that way about him. Yes, he was well aware of his talent and impeccable dress sense but with the exception of his father and Mercedes, nobody had stuck with him regardless. He'd always struck out alone and with his head held high, suppressing the loneliness for another day.

The day he'd asked Sam Evans to duet with him was particularly memorable. Not wanting to admit he was imagining things and building up his hopes, Kurt knew he had to ask the blonde haired boy to sing with him. He was sort of cute in a teeny boy band way and was a little odd - where was the harm? He seemed nice and oh definitely gay. Ultimately watching him sing with Quinn and her vixen's eyes had hurt more than he cared to admit to- obviously not gay then. It wasn't as if Sam was particularly his type or anything, he'd been a new face, a new person to talk to and learn about. Being lonely every day and struggling to ignore the adolescent feelings inside was hard enough but being taunted on top of that was torture. He wanted to be noticed, to be appreciated mostly and to find someone who would actually laugh at his jokes or comment on his new brooch or even just share a warm smile. It'd become a habit to keep a distance but now, sitting opposite the only guy he'd ever met who'd looked at him with genuine affection was stifling in a strangely welcome way.

He didn't have an answer. Kurt almost let out a barking laugh at the dawning realisation that he was rendered completely speechless. The numbness began to wear off as Blaine shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Kurt must have let his brain run away with him, he must have heard things, let his dreams run riot and concoct beautiful circumstances like gorgeous boys declaring their love in pretty restaurants after long delicious days of fun. Definitely a dream.

"What did you say?" Kurt asked, his words small and gradual, "sorry, zoned out."

Blaine shook his head smoothly and grinned slightly. "You heard me."

"I-" Kurt began, his eyes startled and blown wide. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't focus and certainly couldn't think. "What?"

"I said, if you're not careful, I'm going to fall completely in love with you."

Kurt gasped. The world seemed to shift on its axis and tilt Kurt's life upside down in a fraction of second. "You are?"

Blaine felt his fingers grip the table underneath, out of sight, to steady himself. His heart beat madly against his ribs in a way that he didn't think he could stand for much longer. Those words had never ever left his mouth before – not in the way he meant it this time. It was the feeling of flying and falling all at once, his heart in a vice as he waited to see how Kurt would react.

"Yes."

Kurt felt his face wash with blush. Every sense dialled up to overdrive, Kurt attempted to breathe steadily, his fingers trembling. "Nobody has ever said that," was all that came out before his voice failed him and trailed off with a slight squeak. It was as if everyone was looking, staring, noticing, hearing and the world was suddenly very very small.

Blaine saw them. He couldn't take his eyes off Kurt's hands and the way they were clinging to each other in a desperate attempt to hold it together. He felt the panic rise again and reacted using the first idea that flew to mind. "Do you want to leave?" Blaine rushed out.

Kurt nodded shakily. Blaine watched as Kurt grabbed his coat and hurried out of the large stained glass doors that arched the entrance before explaining to the waitress that they had to leave.

As he stepped outside, Kurt had found a seat on one of the raised flower beds that decoratively patterned the courtyard. It was reasonably quiet and secluded, covered by the large tree in the centre. The body language was unmistakeable as Blaine approached, his own body on red alert. He simply wanted to tug Kurt to him and just let him feel how fast his own heart was beating to reassure him that not everyone knows how to deal with these feelings too.

Kurt's head flicked up for a second, registering Blaine's presence. It was as if the air hung expectantly around them, thick and suffocating. "I'm sorry if I freaked you out," Blaine said simply, still standing in front of a sitting Kurt.

"No," the other boy blurted out immediately, "don't you dare."

"I don't understand. You're not upset?" Blaine felt the confusion knit up his brain.

Kurt couldn't believe what he was hearing. Upset? No way. That word was possibly the furthest from his mind. "Blaine, nobody has ever said anything like that to me before. I guess," he stopped for a second, realising how tragic he was about to sound, before continuing, "I never expected to hear them. It never seemed like a possibility for me. Didn't think it was going to work out for me like that."

As he spoke, he heard the breaks in the words, the way his voice fell from his lips in awkward notes from the emotion. It was all too much to handle.

"I meant it," Blaine pressed earnestly, kneeling down in front of Kurt and placing his own hands on the other boy's knees. They were trembling slightly. Blaine felt his heart tug tight, a quick rush of solid want and desperate need to hold onto the person in front of him.

"I know you did," Kurt whispered as his eyes slid to Blaine's, locking and remaining, "and I'm sorry. I just had to get out of there. I can't think straight right now."

Blaine needed clarity more than anything. It was time for them to gain some perspective and surety. "Kurt?"

He looked up, eyes shiny but sharp as glass. "I don't want you to go anywhere." Blaine's brain short circuited. It was reminiscent of decoding riddles as Kurt's words flew out in stream of consciousness, unable to grasp a logical formula or order. "You're too flawless and perfect like some sickeningly handsome prince charming with your strong jaw line and curly hair and smart dress. You're not real. You're too nice, too understanding, too accepting, too kind, too generous, too sensitive, too good at doing all of this that it's too good to be true."

The breeze was softer now, icy but refreshing as Blaine felt his skin heat. This was all wrong- he was just as overwhelmed.

"You're beautiful," Blaine admitted, fast and without a second's thought.

"What?" Kurt asked as his head snapped up in reply.

Blaine sighed, his eyes closing simultaneously with a small smile. "You're frighteningly beautiful for a guy. Your eyes aren't even a colour, they're a gemstone. You're real and in your face without apology. You're cultured and know more about music, theatre and the arts than I could ever dream to. You actually like the fact that I have flaws and even enjoy them. You light up a room regardless of the fact your outfits are usually head turning. You have the purest heart I have ever encountered and it's damaged and dormant and lacking in the nurturing it deserves. Why would I do anything other than hold onto you for as long as you want me to?"

"I want you to."

Blaine smiled. "Well there's a start."

Kurt sighed rough and with a deep whine. "I'm having trouble believing this is actually happening. I mean, you took me ice skating on the most picturesque little lake then you were going to treat me to a lavish lunch. It's um-"

Everything fit into place. Blaine huffed out a breath and let his head fall to Kurt's lap. As he raised his eyes, he felt the puzzle pieces gravitate together in line. "It's too much?"

"I thought I wanted someone to sweep me off my feet," Kurt smiled, a hint of sadness masking his expression, "and have that classic romance Cary Grant style but I guess I still need some time. I'm still grasping the fact that you don't flinch when I touch you or recoil when I talk about the things I love."

The anger that Blaine felt in those few moments was more than he thought possible for a past he had no control over. "I'd never do those things."

"I know," Kurt spat out, exasperated with himself more than anything, "and that's why I'm behaving like some spoiled kid, like some psycho when all you've tried to do is take me on a date and say amazing things... more than amazing actually." He felt his eyes fill for a second before continuing. "I'm scared... I'm scared that if I let go and just surrender to all of these feelings and thoughts then I'll lose them as quick as they came. The thing is that I want them all and more and I'm greedy and once I let myself have everything I've dreamed of... it just feels like they'll be taken away somehow or I'll drive them away."

Blaine chuckled lightly, his hand reaching to thread itself with one of Kurt's. "I struggle to see any situation where you'd be able to drive me away Kurt and believe me, the things you're saying, the worries you have... I get it. I just don't want you to feel scared to feel or act when you're with me."

"That's the thing," Kurt pushed on, his hands gripping Blaine's hard, "I feel scared but I know it's you and I remember all of the things you've said to me about taking each day at a time but it's catch twenty two for me. Once second I can't breathe out when I'm around you and can't think straight and that leads to me clinging to you like a limpet behind a curtain backstage at school as you kiss me stupid or on the flip side, it leads to a hard slap of reality that not everything lasts forever and maybe there's a reason nobody has looked at me the way you do which is their problem but then I think maybe there's something you'll see after a few weeks or months that you don't like-"

In a second, Blaine pulled Kurt's lips to his own, fierce and hard. There wasn't anything soft about the way he touched him, nothing tender and affectionate. It was strong, firm and a kiss so deep that Kurt felt a weight in the pit of his stomach curl inwardly, an ache spreading across his body as he felt himself being pulled to a standing position, Blaine's hands still warm and strong against his cheeks. He felt his hands mindlessly fist into Blaine's jacket, clinging on desperately. Blaine's lips found their movement once more and pressed intensely down against Kurt's, drawing their bodies so close that breathing wasn't an option. As Blaine let go, causing Kurt to stumble and sway, he kept close and spoke slowly.

"I want you. You. Not a version of you or part of you or some projected version of you that you seem to think I see. I want all of you, exactly as you are. This isn't me being cliché, this is just the truth."

It was as if the world was providing the single most precious thing in the world. 'I love you' was one thing but being wanted for every single part of who you are, including the parts that you don't like about yourself...

"Is it like falling off a cliff?" Kurt asked, hoping Blaine would understand the meaning of his words.

It worked. Blaine slid his arms around Kurt's waist, tugging him even closer. "No. It feels like being wrapped in the biggest blanket you can imagine, being held close and then stripped bare all at once."

Kurt's eyes were wide open and bright with sheer emotion. "Can you help me?" he stuttered, feeling more vulnerable than he'd ever wished to feel before but knowing he had to take the leap.

Blaine held harder. "You don't need my help," he spoke resolutely, staring into the crystal cyan of Kurt's eyes, "you just need to know that I'm not going anywhere."

"Kiss me again," Kurt said suddenly, bending his head to rest against Blaine's forehead, "I want you to kiss me like that again."

Blaine knew then that he didn't need a reply right away, he didn't need Kurt to say those words back to him yet as just because one of them didn't say it did not mean it wasn't true. The trust and further developed honesty between them shone bright like an aura as Blaine smiled. He obeyed then, holding Kurt tighter with each tiny movement.

* * *

They could both breathe a little easier as thy walker to the car.

"I'm sorry that this didn't quite go to plan after you put so much effort into planning it."

Blaine chuckled with a shake of his head. "No, you were right. I guess I just wanted it all to be perfect and memorable and ended up going over the top."

Kurt stopped him mid-walk with a soft hand on his elbow. "I didn't mean that, you know? You were being thoughtful and your usual irritatingly perfect self and you just caught me off guard, that's all."

There was a flicker of something in Blaine's eyes, promise or hope. "Well, if you're sure," he suggested, a flicker of a smile tugging at his lips.

"What is it?"

"Well," Blaine began gently, "I may have had another activity planned that I think you'll love."

As it grew closer to dusk, Kurt wondered what else was possible. Yes, Blaine was hopelessly idealistic but it worked. It worked so well because Kurt recognised the same element to his own personality in a way. Both were different in so many respects, for one Blaine did not have an atom of fashionable prowess, but in certain distinct areas, their similarities were frighteningly distinct.

"Try me."

"There's a touring cast performance of Les Miserables at the Ohio Theatre in Columbus. I got us tickets."

Without a thought, Kurt flung his arms around Blaine's neck, breathing in deep and sighing out contentedly. Blaine gasped as the weight hit him but laughed out his anxiety in a second, feeling Kurt's fingers tighten into his coat lapels. There was something different in the way Kurt acted that felt much more intense and mind-blowingly heart felt. Blaine wondered if this was Kurt at his most natural now. It felt far too good.

"So is that a yes?" Blaine asked happily.

Kurt laughed, his breath warm against Blaine's neck. "I'd love nothing more."

* * *

They were in the darkness, a slight bustle around them as people shifted in their seat, keeping their eyes fixed upon the stage. Blaine had seen the show before as a child but hadn't quite grasped the meaning behind the words or the beauty of the melodies- Sylvie had laughed when the first thing he'd commented on had been the cool guns and the costumes. This time, however, was entirely different.

Kurt had hold of his hand as he sat rigid in his seat, eyes transfixed and captivated. They hadn't discussed the show before so Blaine hadn't even been sure if Kurt was a fan or not but it became obvious as soon as they'd piled into the car. Kurt had launched into a monologue about how "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" is one of the most heart breaking songs ever written and how the angel's melody in the show's Epilogue was possibly one of the most breath taking melodies he'd ever heard. Blaine had smiled into the dark as they drove, thanking whatever entity had blessed him with foresight.

The off note sounds of the end number began as Kurt gripped Blaine's hand tighter, unable to move. Jean Valjean had taken a seat in his chair, preparing to die, and Kurt knew he'd cry. The tears came even from the Cast Recording as an inevitable eventuality. The music has always moved him from an early age and sitting in the dark with Blaine close after a day filled with a multitude of emotions, Kurt felt himself choke with tears. He could barely see as he fought to keep them in.

Blaine glanced with a fond smile at the way Kurt's knuckles were turning white against his own hand and noticed the sparkling tears fighting at the rim of his eyes. It was precious. Blaine felt the music fill the auditorium, soaring over their heads, reverberating off the walls and soaking into every single heart in the audience.

As Cosette began to sing to her 'father', her voice crystal and piercing, Kurt swallowed hard and listened to every syllable as if his life depended upon it. Fantine then began to sing.

_Come with me, where chains will never bind you  
All your grief, at last, at last behind you_

_Lord in heaven, look down on him in Mercy_

_Take my hand, and lead me to salvation  
Take my love for love is everlasting  
And remember the truth that once was spoken,  
To love another person is to see the face of God._

Kurt felt himself shudder as the tears fell. He wasn't a believer in religion but he knew it didn't matter as the music filled his soul. He felt his breath catch as the ensemble began to sing, loud and hopeful, their voices so powerful that Kurt's spine shivered uncontrollably. The voices grew louder, cascading in melodies so strong and heartfelt.

He snapped out of it as the voices stopped, the score soaring still in the background. It felt natural to lean closer to Blaine, enjoying the way the darkness shrouded them but suddenly less aware of the public sitting close-by. Kurt let his head fall against Blaine's shoulder, his tears his black woollen sweater.

"You ok?" Blaine whispered, smiling through the dark as he tilted his head to look into Kurt's eyes. They glittered against the blackness.

"I will say it you know?" Kurt whispered with certainty, overcome with emotion, need and the closeness, "I will."

Blaine smiled lazily. "I know," he soothed, planting a bay kiss against Kurt's temple as the music swelled once more.

* * *

_**Wow. That was a Chapter and a half. HA! So many emotions, so many thoughts, so many settings... HOPE you enjoyed it. I swear I was nearly in tears at so many moments – I'm such a complete softie.**_

_**I have a feeling Kurt would like Les Mis. My heart belongs with Les Mis. I've seen SO many West End shows as I spend quite a lot of time in London and try and see a show as often as I can but I saw Les Mis for its 25**__**th**__** Anniversary Tour with John Owen Jones and have never been as moved and captivated by a show in my entire life. I have seen it three times since! If you're not familiar, I'd recommend watching the 10**__**th**__** Anniversary performance of the Epilogue for the part I included – Ruthie Henshall plays Fantine and she is outstanding. **_

_**...and off we go back to Dalton :)  
**_


	30. So Close

_**Firstly, I've got to apologise for the uselessness of FFnet. I noticed a few mistakes in the previous Chapter, checked my saved edit and they're correct there. No idea why they happened e.g. the last line should say "baby" etc! Grrrr. Sorry about that!**_

_**I had a whole next section to add to this Chapter but I decided I really only wanted this set alone by itself and I've added the extra bit to the next Chapter as it makes more sense to. It's much longer too which I'm sure you guys won't mind!**_

_**Thank you SO SO much to raven-meadows, lore-lie, firelle, staceytasia and everyone else on tumblr who have found my random blog and left me the sweetest messages. Also to those of you here who I get reviews off after every Chapter and they're always SO lovely. **_

_**I REALLY hope you like this one ;) – THIS will all make more sense in the development once it's read in the context of the last Chapter and the next. Some people have asked about Kurt's reluctance and fears. I could go on about it FOREVER but I hope this makes it a little clearer. He WANTS love and affection and a relationship and all that goes with it, he DESPERATELY wants that as he's never ever experienced it before but how he's pretty much GOT IT – it's freaking him out. He could lose it, be terrible at it, Blaine might still let him down, he's scared of opening up, accepting that these things are actually possible... etc! Doesn't mean that he's not capable of just letting loose like behind the curtain at the show and at his house at Christmas. It's when he has time to think and reality comes into it... his brain is the problem. Over-thinking. He just needs to learn how to STOP... and I hope you enjoy watching him :D**_

_**

* * *

**_

**A Few Days Later  
**

Pure insanity. He wanted another moment of it. After the incredible date that turned out to be so much more, Kurt cherished the goodnight kiss Blaine had planted tenderly on his cheek with a sincere wish for sweet dreams. It was schmaltzy and typically Blaine but it was 'oh so' perfect. They'd talked a lot out, leaving each other for bed time feeling emotionally drained but so much stronger.

Kurt was resilient and effervescently bold. He was going to channel that, use it to stop feeling so damn scared and nervous. If he could rock the hell out of an Alexander McQueen 'to the knee' sweater and still feel like a million dollars, he sure as hell could take a deep breath and let the sweetest guy he'd ever known into his heart. He could do it and he would. Little steps at a time.

As February assessments were approaching, Kurt found himself sitting on the Sunday afternoon, a pile of books to his right, a flask of coffee to his left and a playlist of piano music in the background- Ga Ga or Garland were just far too distracting. He hadn't seen Blaine for a day and a half and had, instead, spent three hours with Wes and David revising European History. David had fallen into another in-depth discussion making Kurt's brain hurt as he swatted him with his notepad. It had been an inevitable outcome when Wes had dragged his friend back up to his dorm room in an attempt to keep him safe from Kurt's wrath. The solitude now found in his own dorm was exactly what he'd needed- Pavi was enough company.

It was odd not seeing Blaine for so long as they'd grown so used to each other. Kurt found himself daydreaming, mind wandering from the incessant lines of boring text.

"Dying of boredom?"

Kurt smiled, huge and inviting, as Blaine appeared at his dorm door in chunky knit and soft plaid pants.

Kurt felt his entire body react. It was frighteningly overwhelming how much he'd got used to channelling the feelings now, how he was able to let them fill him and allow them to send him as crazy as they wished. The baby steps were working.

"My eyes are itching, seriously."

Blaine laughed, his arms straining under a pile of books, paper and pens. "I tried Lit then my brain hurt so I practised some of the melodies from rehearsal yesterday then my throat hurt. I decided it was time for a break. Do you want me to leave you to it?" he asked, praying to God that Kurt was say no.

"No," Kurt rushed, "no stay. I'm done anyway I think. I can't stare at these books any longer hoping something's going to go in."

Kurt patted the bed beside him. As Blaine shuffled in, placing his books on the floor, he returned to the doorway and picked up his guitar. Kurt's eyebrows raised questioningly causing Blaine t chuckle lightly. He flushed for a second, suddenly feeling strangely self conscious.

"I can play if you'd like?"

Kurt beamed. "Really? Are you taking requests?"

"Maybe. I've got a couple of songs I've been working on though. I'm still no good at them but I was going to ask if you could give me pointers to help me improve them. I wanted to use one as my audition solo for Regionals."

There was nothing Kurt wanted more than to hear them. The chance for in-depth discussions about music, concepts and composition was like musical crack and he was never going to pass it up. "I'll gladly be your audience."

Kurt kept his eyes on Blaine as he unclipped his case and pulled his guitar out. It was strange watching Blaine with a guitar as his groomed exterior didn't somehow suit one but Kurt smiled, his eyes falling to the deep red shiny hue of the wood, knowing it wasn't any old instrument. It was exceptionally expensive and classical. Blaine settled it on his knee, fingers prepped to begin to play. As Kurt settled himself, cross legged on the bed, Blaine flashed a tiny smile before strumming the opening notes.

_There was a time__  
I had nothing to give  
I needed shelter from the storm I was in  
And when it all got too heavy  
You carried my __weight__  
And I want to hold you  
And I want to say  
_

Kurt felt his shoulders slump, his head tilted to the side listening intently. It was the way Blaine's eyes deepened as he sang, the way his shoulders appeared so solid, his arms throwing out the chord like his life depended upon it. Kurt could barely function, realising that this guy in front of him was, in a way, his. He felt himself panic tight in his chest as reality presented itself boldly. Blaine was not going anywhere, he was real and so very present.

_That you are all that I need  
For you, I give my soul to keep  
You see me, love me  
Just the way I am  
For you I am __a better man__  
_

Kurt swallowed hard. Were these words for him? The song was heartfelt and open and chosen specifically by Blaine. He wasn't singing in Kurt's direction, instead choosing to sing with his eyes closed, forehead creasing at ever deep note. Mesmerising wasn't the word. Kurt knew a good performance, he knew how to kill a ballad as skilfully as Miss Rachel Berry but there was something raw in Blaine's voice that pulled at Kurt's heart.  
_  
I said you are the reason  
For everything that I do  
I'd be __lost__, so lost, without you_

_Under the stars  
At the edge of __the sea__  
There's no one around  
No one but you and me  
We'd talk for hours  
As time drifts away  
I could stay here for ever  
And hold you this way_

_I said you are the reason  
For everything that I do  
I'd be __lost__, so lost, without you_

It was like waking up from a dream as Blaine blinked back into the room. Kurt felt his skin shiver watching Blaine's eyes clear, their cloud drifting. It was difficult to grasp that he was not the only one who was learning. Those words, whether they were true or not, were sung with so much passion and depth that Kurt found himself sighing heavily in wonder.

"That," he spoke softly, "that was amazing."

It was the shy expression that twitched to Blaine's lips, eyes and cheeks that shocked Kurt. Blaine glanced down at his pick and then back up, under his long eyelashes, to look into Kurt's eyes.

"Glad you like it," he replied, his voice somewhat unsure.

Kurt felt as if his mind was drowned in a thick mist, slowly clearing for a second. Blaine wasn't some superhero of a guy, he wasn't the one with all of the answers and he certainly didn't have confidence to his bone. He was solid and sure with a wealth more experience but Kurt saw the same fears reflected back at him. Blaine needed and wanted someone just as much. They weren't that different.

Before he knew what he was doing, Kurt reached over and slid the guitar from Blaine's lap, letting it rest on the floor. Blaine just sat still, his eyes watching every movement. Kurt smiled slightly to himself, relishing in the knowledge that he just might have enough confidence to do what he so badly wanted to.

He shuffled closer on the bed watching as the duvet bunched up at his side. He didn't seem to care. The room was warm, cosy even, and with the door closed, Kurt couldn't quite remember what he was scared of, not when Blaine sat in front of him so kind and... normal. It was the first time that Kurt had seen it truly.

Kurt felt his body relax, breaths riding languidly as he let his right hand grip the thick wool of Blaine's cardigan, pulling himself to a kneeling position.

He looked into Blaine's eyes, his own crossing slightly at the closeness. "Is this ok?" he asked quietly, his voice surprisingly composed.

"Anything's ok." The tiny smile Blaine made in return, followed by his easy movement onto the bed, caused Kurt's heart to melt.

He followed Blaine to the back of the bed and watched him lean his back against the wall. There was no way he could sit beside him, there was no sensible reason for that. He wanted to be close and as close as possible so he smiled nervously, glancing down to register any change in Blaine's eyes, as he lifted himself to straddle Blaine's lap, lowering himself down to a sitting position.

Blaine's eyes did change. With eyebrows raised and a flicker of a smirk, they intensified. Blaine felt Kurt's fingers linger on his chest, shaking slightly. He breathed in deep and hoisted himself up to a better sitting position before closing the space between them with a single kiss.

Kurt drew a slow breath as his arms slid around Blaine's neck, pulling him off the other boy's lap and arching his back into the kiss. It was painfully slow. Each movement drifted lazily into the next with feeling so heightened that it was difficult to focus. Blaine smiled, kissing deeper as Kurt let out a tiny noise of satisfaction.

"You're so good at this," Blaine murmured against Kurt's lips.

Kurt stopped, breathing in and bringing his shoulders up as he did so with the sweetest expression of pride. "Good teacher," was the half response in rely as Blaine cut him off, kissing back soundly and pressing his hands to the small of Kurt's back, bringing them together tightly.

Kurt tensed in the embrace, unmoving from sheer intensity before relaxing forward, tangling his arms around Blaine's neck and threading his fingers into the back of his hair, curls softly wrapped in his grasp.

Their breathing grew shallow and slow, both intent on feeling every single shift in movement. Kurt eased his hands down to Blaine's neck, under his sweater and let them follow around the front to the large wooden buttons. He undid them one by one before pulling reluctantly from Blaine's lips to look into his eyes. He could feel the nerves creep back in but squashed them, told them he wasn't going to let them win.

Blaine idly smiled, tilting his head to one side, his hands resting on Kurt's hips.

"You're so warm," Kurt mumbled, his skin flushing out of embarrassment at his own random choice of words. It was true though, Blaine's limbs folded around him caused a cocoon of heat, heady and irresistible but Kurt could only feel it in his arms. He wanted more.

"There might be a reason for that," Blaine whispered suggestively as Kurt leaned in once more, smiling. As their lips brushed once more, Kurt tugged off the sweater, feeling the grey t-shirt underneath and Blaine's body flush underneath it. It was all a little too much to handle. He felt himself swallow, pressing himself closer and Blaine, in turn, into the wall. He shifted and shuffled in, trapping Blaine's hips between his knees and kissed with every shot of emotion that flew from his heart.

Blaine felt Kurt's weight press down onto him, unfamiliar but more comforting than he could describe and hotter than he could deal with. He felt his heart quicken at Kurt's will and the way his hands and limbs moved with purpose.

"You don't pull away," Kurt spoke into the kiss, never ending. He felt a stream of words and phrases spiral in his mind, desperate to be said and for Blaine to hear them. He left them fall from his lips with each press against Blaine's. "You let me do this"

"Mmm hmmm," was the response.

"Don't ask me to stop." Blaine shook his head with a hint of a grin but let his hands wrap tighter around Kurt's waist, tugging him forward even though it wasn't possible to get closer.

"So different. So much I don't know."

Blaine felt something tug low in his stomach. It was unidentifiable and caused his spine to curve, pushing himself forward closer, closer and flush entirely with every curve of Kurt's arms and chest. "Believe me," he rasped, a little frantic, "you know."

He didn't even know what it meant, only that he wanted more and more without release.

"I can't believe I know what it's like now," Kurt mumbled again, suddenly aware he was talking far too much.

Blaine laughed, overcome with emotion. He leaned back somewhat out of breath but lost in the pure affection that coursed through his body. "Know what _what _ is like?" he asked, their bodies still achingly close.

Kurt blushed but didn't pull away. "Um," he began, unsure as to how to finish the sentence without sounding so innocent and naive, "what boys lips taste like."

Blaine felt his stomach drop deliciously, his heart swell at Kurt's crinkled brow and pink cheeks. He felt a sharp burst of fondness then frustration for Kurt, knowing he'd never been able to experience what he deserved but knowing that, now, he had the chance to.

He smiled, leaning back in close and pressing the faintest kiss to Kurt's lips. "Vanilla, coffee and something musky," Blaine whispered, lost in the feel of Kurt's skin beneath his own lips as they pressed warm points to Kurt's cheeks, jaw, nose, chin and then moved to his neck.

Kurt squirmed a little. "Me?" he rushed out, gasping as each kiss came and shivering under the touch.

"Mmm hmmm."

Kurt fell silent for a second, eyes tight shut. "I can't describe," he stuttered out in between gasps of breath.

"Me?" Blaine chuckled, returning to look into Kurt's eyes, relishing far too deeply in the fact that they were entirely woozy. Kurt nodded, his eyes wide and lips rubbing together slowly.

Blaine felt his lower body react naturally, frantically trying to picture a brick wall. The way Kurt bit down on his lip, the pink skin nipped slightly inbetween his teeth slowly sliding out as he smiled, was too much. Far too much.

"You have no idea," Blaine breathed out, closing the distance between them again in a rush of lips and grabbing, "how", he stuttered, "how much... how much, how completely..."

He didn't finish his sentence as Kurt angled him to the side and they lowered, far too quickly, onto Kurt's pillows- Kurt's large, expensive and fluffy pillows. Blaine turned, pushing Kurt beneath him, opening his eyes a fraction to keep track of Kurt's expression. It was a little new for them.

Kurt's eyes were closed, breathing shallow and a look so other-worldy on his face. Blaine didn't waste a second as he sat astride Kurt's hips now, enjoying the feeling of someone beneath him, solid and in the moment. He kissed Kurt's lips surely.

Kurt shuddered, their stomachs pressed together as Blaine leaned over him, feeling the heat radiating from his hands as they gradually travelled up from his hips to lay hot and solid against his chest over his heart. With a hard swallow, he felt his body react, a wave of heat wash down lower and lower causing a whirl of embarrassment and self consciousness.

"I..." Kurt breathed out, swallowing between firm kisses, "Blaine, I..." He couldn't breathe right and couldn't move, so wrapped up and held tight in the moment. His brain still tried to win, an insecurity fighting to the surface prepared to burst through the bubble and pierce the safety but as Blaine's hand stroked hypnotic patterns over his skin causing tingles to flutter every which way, Kurt was sure he'd never felt as precious in his whole life. He wanted to say so much, wanted to express himself and make words depict every feeling, touch and emotion but he'd lost his grip and never ever wanted it back.

It felt like forever and that was ok, but gradually their kisses became slower, lips swollen red and skin scorched but, in time, sleep took over and they lay, tangled together in the lamplight.

* * *

_**The song is "Better Man" by James Morrison. His voice is a lot more raw and gritty than Blaine's but, still, the soulfulness is there and so is the meaning. It's on youtube :D**_


	31. Hand to Hold

_**Oh a thousand apologies for the wait... the massive wait. I've been drowning in a pile of legal briefs for a week and it's exhausting. Cue no sleep, plenty of late nights and zero time. The occupational hazard of returning back after Christmas! Anyway, you have an update and I have a, hopefully, slower weekend (off to see Miss Keira Knightley for the second time in the West End and I'm RIDICULOUSLY excited. Those who know me, know me love for her and how excited I was to meet her the first time!) of train journeys which means, more writing :D**_

_**OBVIOUSLY, I have to mention the SHEER magic of Chris winning his Golden Globe. I streamed them live as I worked and burst into happy tears. What a gorgeous moment? I felt so proud to be a fan of his... someone so genuine and honest and real. He deserves it so much and I was giddy with to mention the fact Darren was at the Golden Globes... as a fan of his from long back (courtesy of Anna, my penpal - I know you're reading this!), it blew my mind to see him there! I've never seen someone have so much FUN at an awards ceremony - the videos and photos from the night just proved how incredibly humble yet insane he truly is : )  
**_

_**ALSO – tonight the most blissful set of Kurt and Blaine pictures surface from the cover/spread in EW. If you haven't seen them, you only need to visit tumblr, LJ, Twitter or anywhere else to find them. Gosh they're adorable. I'm so excited to share the complete hysteria of this fandom with everyone : ) It's too fun.**_

_**Anyway, I have a BAZILLION thank yous to make so I won't bore you all with a long list, although those lovely people from tumblr who added me (I swore I would never let that place become a place to visit daily... Damn thing pulled me in!) and left the sweetest messages. To those who have JUST read the masses of Chapters and have left INCREDIBLY kind messages and reviews... I'm utterly grateful and am naming each and every one when I say this- Thank you.**_

_**I REALLY hope you like this Chapter. It's one of my favourites I think... ;) Have a wonderful weekend!**_

_**

* * *

**_

Kurt was a fighter. He wasn't going to let some hideous headache beat him- not under any circumstance. He'd spent the past day wading through piles of books and stacks of notes and, although it was mentally stimulating, it was also draining him of every ounce of energy. He had a Warblers rehearsal, two essays, French translation and a stack of Chapters to read to prepare for a science project with his very lazy lab partner.

Blaine was equally snowed under, taking orders from Kurt to steer clear and secretly sighing in relief that Kurt was so understanding. Post-New Year pile on was common at Dalton and Blaine dreaded the time of year as it rolled around, knowing his life outside of his dorm was limited and definitely fleeting.

Blaine tossed another screwed up piece of paper in his trash can, frowning at it as made a noise. Running a hand over his tamed hair, he grimaced, gripping his pen and sighing before beginning to write again. It was going to be a long day.

-.-.-.-.

"Kiddo, how you doin'?" Burt asked cheerfully in Kurt's ear.

"Ohh Dad, migraine."

"Sorry son, you studying too hard?"

Kurt hummed, his eyes closed and the fingers on his right hand pressing to his aching temples. "Got to be done dad, I can't leave it. Classes here are way tougher than at McKinley. I'm having to work twice as hard as the kids here just to catch up. French is great, so it Lit but the rest is killing me."

Burt groaned. "Well, if you were studying the art of changing a tyre kiddo, I could give you a few pointers but beyond that, you're on your own," he schooled, "but I know you and I know you don't give up kiddo so stick with it. You don't need to prove anything to us, just do your best."

"I will dad," Kurt sighed, hugging his phone slightly, "it's just, I've been getting these headaches recently and they make me feel so dizzy and disorientated. I can't get ill."

Burt began to laugh. "Those kids won't know what's hit them if you get ill. It's like the exorcist only worse, right kid?"

Kurt giggled. "Now that's just unfair. I've only been that bad once and that was before I had a starring role in the school play. No way was I missing it. This time though dad, I've got a solo audition in a week and I can't get ill. I need to show them what I can do."

"You'll do it Kurt. I might not be able to give you help with your homework and I might not be the best at the whole relationship talk stuff but there's one thing I do know and that's you. You'll nail it. I know it. But if you do feel ill and need to come home, just call and I'll be right there."

Kurt let a slow smile spread. "Thanks dad. I love you."

"Love you too kid, now go get something to eat or some rest. You're always lecturing me about that stuff."

"I will do dad, I promise. Speak to you soon."

As they hung up, Kurt felt a twinge of homesickness. It wasn't because he was unhappy at Dalton or wishing his old situation back at McKinley, he just wanted his own bed and his own home with his dad on red alert if he felt ill. Kurt could only remember a hand full of times when he'd fallen poorly and each time was equally as traumatising as the other. Kurt did not get ill- he just didn't.

* * *

"We're missing two," Wes announced, sitting at the head of the senior commons, drumming his pencil against the wooden bench.

David craned his neck to spot any movement outside of the door. "We're waiting on Kurt and George."

Blaine felt himself shuffle on the spot. He'd checked on Kurt earlier but had been greeted with a tense smile and knew that Kurt's eyes were elsewhere. It hadn't been particularly upsetting, knowing that he had just as much as Kurt to do and felt just as tired but it had caused Blaine to worry unduly.

That worry increased tenfold as Kurt entered the room, smiling weakly and taking the spot at Blaine's side.

"New kid," Wes chimed, a little frustrated, "nice of you to join us. You seen George on your travels?"

Kurt blinked up, his eyes stinging. "No I haven't. Sorry."

The Warbler boys talked amongst themselves as Wes, David and Harry convened in a triangle behind the council's desk.

Blaine let his eyes take in Kurt's paler-than-usual skin, dark eyes and slight frown. He looked exhausted, his shoulder slumping somewhat but still, he remained resilient and seemed intent on battling through.

"You ok?" Blaine asked, turning in his seat and rubbing the top of Kurt's hand with his index finger, "because you look as if you could sleep for a week."

Kurt shook his head and sat up straight. "I'm ready to sing," he said firmly and leaned to bump his shoulder against Blaine's. He was unconvinced.

"Ok guys, we're going to presume that George has either forgotten, got detention or has been abducted by aliens for the sake of time constraints so places please."

They'd been focusing on harmonising for their show stopping rendition of Pink's "Get the Party Started" in order to inject some more modern music and genres to their unique style. Kurt pushed himself off the couch and followed Blaine to stand to his right. It took effort to move his legs and even more to stand upright in their opening stance. As the back line began to beat out a rhythm, Kurt felt his eyes twitch and burn.

Blaine loved the song choice. There was something about taking a party classic and adding the Warbler's stamp, plus Kurt had even persuaded the council to allow more movement, choreographing his own slightly bigger steps for them to try. Blaine has smiled widely and felt himself gush with pride as Wes, David and Harry had all okayed the progression and even, in secret, said how much they loved the idea. Kurt was the firecracker the Warblers needed to drag them out of their stale rut.

The only problem was that, today, he couldn't take his eyes off Kurt. Usually that was because the other boy's quaffed hair would drive him crazy with cuteness or the way his lips would pout would send sparkles of desire straight through him as he imagined kissing them in private but, today, it was out of concern. Blaine knew how hard Kurt was working, knew how much effort he was putting in to every aspect of life at Dalton and knew it was in his nature to do so but something felt more intense than that and Blaine couldn't get to the core of the problem. Kurt's adamant nature was too inherent and unfaltering to break through at times.

Kurt watched as Blaine stepped the pattern of movement he'd mapped out, his shoulder leaning into each sway as he sang. Ordinarily he'd have swooned on the spot at how gorgeous he looked in his uniform, so smart yet so deeply cool and suave, but he had no energy to think about anything other than remaining upright and focused. It was a struggle.

Kurt felt Jackson, the guy to his left, sway towards him and step into his path. It was an odd moment of confusion that passed before he felt his eyes mist. Desperately grappling mentally for a hook or something to hold onto, Kurt felt his line of sight skew and stomach lurch as he tripped forward and stumbled into the empty space.

Blaine flinched, feeling Kurt fall in front of him. The singing stopped immediately.

"Kurt, hey hey what's wrong?" Blaine asked, his arm steady against the small of Kurt's back. Kurt leaned back into it, rubbing his tired but frantic eyes and letting out a deep sigh.

He couldn't look into Blaine's eyes, knowing that they'd cause him to give in. Instead, he took a breath and stood tall. "Wow, sorry. Little dizzy," he said, feigning composure.

Kurt felt the gaze of every boy in the room, questioning him, some worried and some agitated at having to be cut short mid song.

"You ok Kurt?" Wes asked, frowning and patting Kurt's shoulder lightly.

"Fine, I'm fine," was the reply.

Blaine didn't like it. He could see the struggle behind Kurt's eyes, the way his shoulders shook slightly as they pushed back and tried to assert some kind of control. It was exhausting just watching Kurt try so hard.

By the end of the number, Wes had rearranged the group once more and placed Kurt behind Blaine in a triangular shape for bigger impact. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to remain alert, Kurt battling against his natural instinct to simply close his eyes and rest. He knew that sleep was paramount and it wasn't that he was failing to look after himself; the problem lay with the pesky illness that felt as if it was convenient to take up host in Kurt's body.

As they worked on the bridge of the song, including a side step and hop routine which Kurt had thrown in to shake up the audience and to grab their attention at a pivotal moment in the song, Kurt felt himself wane again. It took approximately three seconds for his head to reel, eyes to drift and feet to falter again. This time he fell forward, stumbling into Blaine who quickly reacted, holding out his arm and grabbing Kurt incase he fell.

"Woah hey."

Wes halted the song, directing the other Warblers to take a break.

"Kurt," Wes began, placing a strong hand on his shoulder as Blaine kept him upright, "I think you need to call it a day. You look exhausted."

Kurt could feel himself sway, the dizziness taking over and temples throbbing. He wanted nothing more than to curl up on the floor on the spot and just lie there until some semblance of energy decided to present itself.

"Kurt," Blaine soothed, stroking his back protectively, "maybe you should go back to your room, get some rest."

It was at this point that Kurt's grip failed. He looked into Blaine's eyes and melted immediately, knowing he couldn't refuse him anything. He'd still fight to the death for beliefs, fashion choices and musical direction but, somewhere deep inside, Kurt knew that he needed to be anywhere other than in the centre of the senior commons making a spectacle of himself.

He nodded, feeling Blaine's arm wrap around his middle. "Lie down," was all Kurt managed to say.

"Ok, are you able to walk?" Blaine asked, using his free arm to steady Kurt's elbow.

"Mmmm hmmm."

"Come on then," Blaine reassured, "lets go up to your room and you can lie down."

As they entered Kurt's room, Blaine blanched at the uncharacteristically untidy mess littered across the desk and the sea of papers fanned out on the floor. Something was wholly wrong with the world and Blaine was sure then that something was definitely up- mess and Kurt Hummel just didn't coexist.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, watching as the other boy slid down onto his bed and curled on his side, eyes closing heavily.

"Am fine," he mumbled, wafting a hand in Blaine's direction, "just need to lie here for a second then I will be fine."

"Kurt, look at me," Blaine pushed, kneeling by the bed and scooping Kurt's dangling hand into his own, rubbing a strip of skin over and over. Kurt didn't obey, instead choosing to lie still and feign oblivion. "Kurt?"

"Blaine I'm fine."

"You're not fine at all," Blaine sighed out, feeling Kurt pull his hand back and sit up a little, eyes still averted, "you're tired and stressed and you look so pale. I know we haven't seen each other as much as we'd like over the past week because of school work and rehearsals but you're not..."

Kurt blinked. "I'm not what?"

"You're not talking to me," Blaine snapped, feeling the irritation bubble in his chest followed by a lurching panic that he'd come across as grouchy. Blaine controlled a long sigh and tried to think of a single time when someone else needed him, when he felt useful and as if he could actually make an impact on somebody's life. He'd been the one protected, the one cared for, the one to receive the added extras from those select few like Thomas, Sylvie and even Wes and David and the other Warblers upon his arrival. He'd never felt able to really ease into a relationship where he could be an equal, someone to participate in the partnership and actually let himself love another person emotionally and physically. Kurt was the first and only. It was a treat, so fulfilling and worthwhile to feel as if he was making a difference in someone's life. The smile Kurt would flash him or the small nudge he'd receive for a minor gesture was enough to light up his entire day, safe in the knowledge that he was no longer passive in life. Feeling Kurt drift was frighteningly difficult to accept. There was no way his heart could accept that happening, not now.

"Did I do something to upset you?"

It was then that Kurt felt sick. He jolted alert, sitting up and staring Blaine direct in the eyes. "Why would you ever even think that?"

Blaine swallowed, his face washing with insecurity. Kurt was sure it was one of the first times he'd witnessed it truly. It hurt.

"Because you're pretending to me right now, you've been different this past week, so tired and busy which I understand but you almost passed out down there and now you're dismissing me and telling me you're fine. You're not Kurt."

"I know," Kurt sighed out, his shoulders slumping, "but you're so busy too. You're like a whirlwind of perfectly stapled formatted papers in smart folders and irritatingly excellent grades. You know how hard it is to keep up with you all here? I mean I know I'm acing French and could give Marion Collitard a run for her money but at McKinley I was close to top of every class and I barely lifted a finger."

Blaine frowned, forgetting his own public school experiences then recalling the standard lesson plans, simple and repetitive expectations requiring less than advanced thought. "Dalton's a pretty big leap."

"A freakin moon jump Blaine."

Blaine laughed, sitting close to Kurt on the edge of his bed, bumping shoulders. "So are you sharing now?"

As Kurt's lips creased into a tiny smirk, Blaine's heart swelled in his chest as a happy reminder that they were ok after all. "I'm a bitch when I'm stressed," Kurt huffed out, pursing his lips.

"So I'm coming to realise."

Kurt automatically swung his hand, slapping Blaine playfully on the knee. "If you weren't so sickeningly perfect I'd hate you sometimes," he teased, realising his head, mid slap, had lowered close enough to land easily on Blaine's shoulder. He let it.

"Not really feeling the hate if I'm honest," Blaine laughed out, his cheeks growing pink with the flush of affection he felt rise in his chest.

Kurt groaned playfully. "I'm exhausted and you're shoulder is a better option. Your hair's somewhat sticky thank you very much."

"I'll say it again," Blaine asserted with a chime to his voice, "it's my Marlon Brando look."

Kurt shuddered, feeling Blaine's arm snake around his waist. It took seconds to resist before he snuggled into the embrace and tentatively let his own arms wrap around Blaine's middle, holding tighter than he knew he should. The feelings fluttering inside were a flurry of butterflies as Kurt closed his eyes, savouring the warmth and comfort. It felt wonderful and a little shocking still that someone was not only willing but actively going out of their way to care and consider.

"I don't want to have to leave Dalton."

Blaine's stomach clenched. "Why would you leave?"

Kurt shuffled free, regretting leaving the warm cocoon immediately but knowing he should speak, it was what they should do as boyf-, as whatever they were.

"My dad and Carole had to forego their honeymoon to pay for my tuition here and it's not easy for me to know that it's costing them so much. I don't want to end up failing out too. It'd be like a slap in the face for all they've done for me."

Blaine curled his fingers around Kurt's and held tight. "They love you," he said earnestly, enjoying the way Kurt leaned in a little closer, "they want you to be safe and happy."

"I am," Kurt mumbled, glancing up into Blaine's eyes and smirking slightly once more, "and you're way too good at this. How does that not surprise me?"

The laugh came easily. "I mean it Kurt, you're happy here and I know it's not the easiest school to attend but it's keeping you safe and free from the awful things you went through at your old school. I know you miss your old Glee club more than you show but they're always going to be there. They're your best friends. You're still settling here. Nobody's expecting you to conquer the system in a matter of months so just take each day as it comes, ok?"

Kurt felt himself sigh again, lowering his weary neck to rest his forehead against Blaine's shoulder. "Someone once threw gello in my hair," he whispered, "then a week later I watched as that same kid dashed a slushie in my face. It set me back a week in my skincare routine."

Blaine laughed lightly, tugging Kurt's shoulders closer. "See, your routine can stay intact here."

"Don't think my dad would be too happy to hear that his precious dream of dining with the cast of Lost in Hawaii with his new bride was crushed in order to preserve my moisturising schedule, although it _**is**_ of paramount importance."

The movement of Blaine's lips against Kurt's hair told him that there was a smile evident there. "He loves you. As long as you're happy and you're doing as well as you can, that's all that matters."

"Yes sir," Kurt murmured his eyes waning slowly in the blanket of heat that Blaine exuded. It was odd to find the thick and almost scratchy material of Blaine's blazer particularly inviting but, to Kurt, it felt familiar and smelled so inherently of Blaine that it was addictive.

"You need to sleep," Blaine decided, leaning Kurt away from him and easing off the bed, "come on, lie down."

Kurt's skin shivered with fondness. As he looked into Blaine's eyes, taking in his patted down hair, starched attire and lopsided smile, he tried to fight against his natural reaction to let Blaine leave. Kurt wasn't one for being fussed over and spent most of his life since his mother died, battling through any pesky illness and realising that Burt wasn't so skilled in the 'playing nurse' department. It was daily Echinacea and vitamin supplements and regular exercise that had Kurt in shape and avoiding illness or stress as much as possible. It was an innate trait of his, to knowingly reject pandering of any kind and to just shake it off, suppress the fatigue or negative feelings and carry on. He didn't need anybody. Now, things were different. Blaine wasn't there because he felt obliged, he was there because he wanted to and Kurt was fairly certain that the other boy got a kick out of playing the protector.

He watched as Blaine sat down on the edge of his bed, tugging a blanket up to meet his shoulders and tucking it alongside his arm. It caused a rush of deep and surprising need.

"Will you stay?" Kurt asked quickly, noticing the light in Blaine's eyes at the question.

"Of course," was the reply, so relaxing, "shuffle along."

Kurt obeyed, moving himself to lie with his back against the wall. His hands were cold, icy even, so he bundled them under the blanket just as Blaine positioned himself to lie a little taller, for once, alongside him.

The thick cream blanket was enough to snuggle into but Blaine sighed, shoulders loosening and heart happy to be pressed so close to Kurt. The fact he had a gorgeous boy to cuddle made the entire situation so much more wonderful. Blaine wriggled his shoulders out of his blazer, folding it over the headboard of the bed.

"You can sleep if you'd like," he whispered, bringing his lips close to Kurt's ear and feeling his own skin tingle as Kurt squirmed at the closeness.

"Sure?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Blaine replied, letting his right hand dig into the blankets to locate Kurt's. He felt freezing skin and wrapped his fingers into Kurt's palm, enveloping it with both hands.

Kurt froze, heart close to beating out of his chest. It was never going to fail to be special and monumental to him to have another person reach and hold hands, to tangle their fingers up and hold on tight. It was a small gesture that Kurt had always held dear, possibly cherished even more than a kiss. He'd had them stolen from him, some rendered meaningless and charmless, completely void of any emotion at all, but to hold hands, for someone to feel enough to wish to reach out like that, was precious.

He tilted his head, looking into Blaine's eyes. He didn't move, simply choosing to map the flickers of emotions and the tiny flecks of colour that formed the beautiful hazel.

"What?" Blaine asked quietly, a soft ghost of a smile evident.

Kurt looked down pointedly, deciding at that point to lace his fingers playfully with Blaine's stroking and lifting each finger before wrapping his entire hand back up and squeezing tight.

Blaine watched as Kurt focused upon their hands, taking time to just touch in the most oddly intimate way. He felt the familiar and ever present ache of want intensify so deep that he nuzzled closer and planted a tiny kiss on Kurt's hairline.

Kurt didn't let his fingers loosen but gasped at the kiss, his body blanketed in warmth and affection with such strength that his mind clouded deliciously, sending him woozy. He snuggled into the crook of Blaine's arm as they twisted to find a resting place. The strong arm now looped around Kurt's back was grounding, the safety of the position so strong in the moment that Kurt let his head rest heavy in the crook of Blaine's neck, breathing in his scent, committing it to memory as always.

"Thank you," he spoke into Blaine's skin contentedly.

"My irritatingly perfect ways and I are always available for you," Blaine whispered back causing Kurt to giggle without a thought.

"Always?"

"Yes."

"Even when I'm stressed out and bitchy?"

"Especially when."

"What about when we argue and you call me a diva and I shout back at you and we say stupid things?"

"I'm almost looking forward to it," Blaine laughed, his left arm lazily stroking a random pattern against Kurt's lower arm as he kept his eyes on Kurt's, noticing how they seemed heavier by the second.

"What about when we compete for the same solo and one of us wins and the other has to swallow their pride?"

"Everytime you say this, I always have the same answer: bring it on."

"What about when we get sick of each other, like when you can't stand me fussing and I want to slap you for being so flawless? What happens then?"

"I call you out for nagging me and you tell me when I'm unintentionally stifling you. I'll kiss you and you'll still shout then we'll be petulant about it until neither one of cares anymore and we end up like this," Blaine chuckled wistfully, almost wishing they could go through the make-up stage of their relationship and enjoy the sheer unadulterated passion of it.

"Ok," Kurt swallowed hard, his exhausted brain too slow to respond to shut him up, "what about when we go beyond kissing and maybe think about other things and you realise I'm painfully virginal?"

Blaine snorted a laugh, fondly kissing Kurt's temple as a deep red blush formed.

"Cross that bridge when we come to it," he soothed again, desperate to calm the leaping drum of his heart and the way the mere thought of progressing their relationship made him feel.

"We will though?" Kurt rushed out, screwing his eyes shut at the sheer agony of the question.

It was all a little too much. "If you want to and are ready to and if I am too and if you want to choose me then we will... we will."

"Shut up," Kurt hissed, burying his head in Blaine's neck one more.

"Huh?"

"Of course I want to choose you," Kurt snapped slightly, his voice couched in familiarity and warmth, "stop being so humble. You're insane."

"Ok then," Blaine declared a little louder than intended, "when you want to and when I want to, yes. We will," he finished, lowering his head to catch Kurt's wider eyes, "that better?"

"Mmmm hmmm."

The way it felt to discuss such serious and potentially life changing matters in such an easy way shocked Kurt more than he ever imagined. He felt Blaine's presence wrapped entirely around him but also felt the spark of being able to provide something for Blaine too. They were equals, both learning and growing and wanting the very same things. As realisation coursed through his body, Kurt acted in automaton, leaning in to the spot below Blaine's jaw to press a kiss there. The other boy responded with a low hum, smiling languidly and tilting his head down to Kurt's.

"Are we good?" Blaine asked quietly in between tiny kisses to Kurt's temple then cheek before finally and achingly slowly letting their lips brush together. Dreamily, Kurt responded, his eyes fallen closed and brain painting the most beautiful warm colours in his minds eyes at the touch of Blaine's lips on his own so firm yet delicately tender. It was too much, far too much to process but something had changed now, there were no barriers in place and no constraints because they weren't required anymore, not where Kurt's heart was concerned. It was free and he knew, right there and then that it was fiercely his own but was now shared, beyond the initial fear and trepidation, with another.

"Blaine?" Kurt whispered, barely audible.

"Mmm hmm?"

Blaine's breathing was shallow and comfortable, a sure sign of impending sleep but Kurt took a breath and felt the shock of a confident but idle smile tug at his lips.

"I ... love you too."


	32. Six Months

_**I'm back! GOSH I am SO sorry, so so SO sorry for the wait. I have SO much work to do that it's actually RIDICULOUS. I've really struggled to find time to even have a life nevermind write or do any of the other things I enjoy. I can only apologise for the wait and HOPE that this chapter makes up for it.**_

_**It's a long one, nearly 8,000 words ... 8,000 words of shameless and complete and utter soppiness but it felt necessary.**_

_**I am so grateful for those who are STILL commenting and for those who have even sent messages to me via tumblr, twitter and on here. Your words and encouragement mean the world so THANK YOU.**_

_**The fact that the past few weeks have been pretty much a non-stop cascade of spoilers, photos, awards ceremonies, appearances, news and clips... not to mention songs... it's all so exciting that it's coming back! 4 days now! We've even got our Mr Criss on Ellen tomorrow- good GOD. I can hardly wait and if the behind the scenes shots were anything to go by, well, it looks AMAZING.**_

_**Can't WAIT for the Superbowl AND obviously Valentine's Day. "Silly Love Songs" is one of my songs that I share with my dad, it's a special one for us so to have Darren sing it is so incredibly wonderful. If he can pull off Destiny's Child he can certainly ACE a bit of McCartney ;)**_

_**If I don't post before Sunday, I hope you all have FUN watching the new episode. I'll be over in the UK jumping up and down at 1am in excitemen,t in my pjs (sometimes you'd never think I was 22) with you all :D**_

_**This is BLATANT "honeymoon period" stuff... and FAR too fun to write. Also, I know ZERO French. PLEASE tell me if I got it wrong!**_

_**Thank you all SO much for being so kind and for actually ENJOYING my little story. I really hope you like this one and I PROMISE I'll try and write the next one sooner. Only a few to go till the end!**_

_**PS: I've got a couple of one-shots to post too which are VERY different to this story so, if you enjoy my writing then keep your eyes open for them : )**_

Kurt was considering seeing a doctor. He wasn't sleeping, wasn't eating right and certainly wasn't focusing on the important things he knew he should be focusing on. He was a wreck.

He lay, sleepy and daydreaming on his bed, a half opened copy of the most recent Vogue beside covering a black moleskin notebook in which he'd began doodling some new outfit choices for when he ever managed to claw his way out of the red and navy uniform.

He could hear Pavi's feathers ruffling and the tiny tweets he would make every few seconds; it was comforting, both for sleeping purposes and also to ail whatever insane virus or illness was creeping over him. He remembered the day before, sitting in French class, trying to finish the translation task they'd been set in timed conditions and finding his mind drifting, thoughts fleeing his brain and all of his expert knowledge and fluency becoming a distant memory. Something was seriously wrong.

His phone buzzed by his side.

"Hello?"

"Kurt! It's me."

"Mercy," he sang happily, waking himself and sitting up against his pillows.

"How's it going?"

"I think I'm ill," he admitted outright, unable to keep it in.

"Oh my god sweetie, what is it? Have you seen a doctor? What's wrong?"

"I can't concentrate on anything. I'm not sleeping or eating. I feel like a lot of this is out of body and that I haven't got a grasp on my life anymore."

There was a hum on the end of the line. "Do you feel sick?"

"Sometimes. Not sick, sick but just this feeling, I don't know, a feeling, that's all I can describe it as."

"Well, it doesn't sound like anything serious. Have you guys got a school nurse there, maybe you should ask."

He frowned. He didn't even know if they did. "I guess I could find out," he answered weakly.

"Kurt are you sure you're not just tired? You been getting enough sleep?"

"Yes, yes I've been sleeping lots since Blaine told me I needed to stop working myself into the ground. He's been almost putting me into bed most nights," he explained, heart beating a little faster as he remembered being kissed goodnight most evenings as Blaine came to check on him.

"Ooooo," Mercedes sung on the other end of the line, "he sounds dreamy. Have you told him you're not feeling too good?"

Kurt sighed. "Kind of, but he laughed at me. Evil boy."

"He what?" she shouted, almost enraged, "Honey you need to tell your man to step up and take care of you."

"No, Mercedes," Kurt explained carefully, recalling his conversation with Blaine the day before, "you see he seems to think he knows why I feel like I do."

"Ok, and is he a doctor? No. So you need to go see one."

Kurt chuckled lightly. "Calm the rage," he said firmly with a smile, "he just decided I was feeling like this because, well, I was erm..."

"What, Kurt? Because unless he's got a freakin' Phd, I don't think he's in any position to make a diagnosis witho-"

"He thinks I'm in love."

Silence reined for a second.

"Are you?" she asked, her voice softer, her smile evident through the tone of her words.

Kurt could feel his heart quickening again, the same way as it had been doing the past week without any way of slowing it down.

"I told Blaine that I love him."

The screech was so audible that Kurt was sure it could crack glass. He began to laugh silently, clutching his phone and burying his head in his duvet.

"You did what? Kurt! Oh my god boy, why did you not tell me this?"

"I didn't plan to tell him or anything. I just said it and there it was."

"Oh Kurt that's so amazing. I'm so happy for you, honestly, I really am. You deserve to be happy like this."

"There's just the small matter of my temporary insanity to rectify," he laughed out, shaking his head, "I just can't get a hold on myself. Last week when I told him was an awful day. I'd spent a solid week studying for out assessments and had hardly slept, I mean you have no idea how bad I looked: dark circles, patchy skin, you know? Like a Lindsay Lohan mug shot... it wasn't pretty but I had to keep working. You know how much my dad sacrificed to get me here and how important it is and I didn't want anything to go wrong. I was a mess and felt so bad but Blaine took care of me and we talked a lot out."

"And...?" she asked, the eagerness in her voice coming across strong.

"And he was his usual trademark self. He basically put me to bed and told me to sleep and stop being so stressed. He stayed with me and he um, he held my hand."

"Oh and now it all makes sense," she chimed, bold and full of understanding.

"I mean, it's not the first time it's happened but it was the way he did it and why he did it. It was just sweet," Kurt mused, his head tilting a little, "more than sweet actually."

"Have you felt like this ever since then?" she laughed.

"Yes."

"Think your boy might have a point, Kurt. Maybe you are just a little crazy at the moment but is that really a bad thing? How long have you waited for this to happen for you? I say you just enjoy every second."

-.-.-.-.-.

Dalton had become a playground. Kurt felt his heart speed up daily as he passed Blaine in the corridor on the way to separate classes, or when they walked to class together or shared lunch or met at Warbler's practice or sat together on the expansive lawns or attended Wes and David's DVD nights or... Kurt was becoming increasingly aware of the way Blaine's presence seemed to make any act, whether it be boring or monotonous, surprisingly wonderful. Kurt found himself racking up a decent amount of go-to mental pictures to suppress his constantly rising blood pressure (amongst other things) in Blaine's presence too- it was a process.

There were moments when things became too good to be true, when Blaine would turn and flash his charming smile and Kurt would honestly have to resist turning to see if the attention was directed at someone behind him. It wasn't down to low self esteem now; instead it was borne out of the sheer bliss that was their new-found relationship and the inevitable shock that flowed from Kurt's realisation that he had an actual boyfriend. He could do those things he'd seen Rachel and Finn do like hold hands in Glee club, lean on each other, sing to each other openly, plan together and share their lives. It had always felt entirely otherworldly but now, by some beautiful miracle, it was Kurt's reality.

"Earth to Kurt," came a voice, smooth and teasing effortlessly.

Kurt blinked rapidly, head shaking a little as he came back to the moment. He was sat in the senior commons, his back against the couches and knees bent in front of him. Blaine was sat beside him to the right, coffee in hand, with a gliding smile spreading across his face.

"I was distracted."

"You don't say," Blaine smiled.

"Well," Kurt groaned, "you're not the one with the French test tomorrow so you, Mr Thornton can gladly go and take your sarcasm elsewhere." As he spoke, he could barely wipe the smile off his face. Damn Blaine, even his snappy comments were losing their effect with his inability to resist the warm swirly feeling in his tummy.

"Oh Mr Hummel," Blaine emphasised, "I hardly think you're the one to scold me for sarcasm."

"Drink your coffee," Kurt mock scolded, pressing his lips together hard to force away a smile as he turned to the book placed to his left side.

Blaine huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes. He watched as Kurt feigned ignorance and kept his face still, blatently trying to mask a smirk. It was adorable and entirely distracting. He bit his lip, wondering how he got so lucky in finding someone like Kurt who was not only full of heart but who also refused to change and would always speak his mind. It was a combination so intoxicating that Blaine was sure it could be addictive. He waited and thrived upon Kurt's comments, his quirky ways, and never failed to sigh ridiculously inside and sometimes out loud in the most obvious way; it was all very natural and, if honest, Blaine didn't care how much of a loser he looked, it felt too good.

He kept his eyes on Kurt, watching him focus intently on his reading with a look of steely determination and, simultaneously, an air of haughtiness. It was so typically Kurt. The fact that he'd chosen to select a rather tight deep blue shirt, buttoned high and tucked into his jeans was enough to tip him over the edge. Blaine breathed in deeply, placing his cup to his right and leaning in close to Kurt's neck to press a tiny kiss there. The other boy's sharp intake of breath caused enough of a stir to satisfy Blaine but it wasn't as if he was able to stop- that was no longer an option for them. Kurt kept staring ahead, his eyes intent and deathly focused, but the low hum in his throat was characteristic of his melting will. Blaine knew he was onto a winner. He leaned in again, this time with a smile on his lips, and nuzzled against Kurt's jaw, pressing kiss after kiss gently in a line.

"How dare you," Kurt sighed, low and slightly breathless.

Blaine laughed lightly against Kurt's neck, continuing with his purposeful kisses until they landed close to Kurt's lips. Blaine felt Kurt's shoulders slump slightly from their taut position as he draped his arm on the couch, letting his fingers idly play with the hair just over the collar of his shirt, Kurt's eyes fluttering closed.

"You don't need to study so much. Your French is wonderful."

Kurt turned a millimetre to his right, skin on fire, to meet Blaine's shining eyes. He couldn't bear the sheer level of will power it took to hold back but, instead, raised his eyebrows playfully.

"Je vous déteste," he drawled, biting his lip.

Blaine chuckled, shuffling to catch Kurt's lips before they escaped. With each breath, Kurt leaned closer, attached at the lips and completely letting his guard down. He could feel the smugness almost soaring from Blaine's fingers as they slid around his waist and clasped together at the back.

"I've found a flaw," Kurt mumbled against Blaine's persistent lips.

"Oh really?" Blaine asked, eyes filled with amusement, "and what would that be?"

Kurt positioned his shoulders and smirked. "Impatience," he stated simply. A giggle was somewhere deep down, bubbling and ready to escape at any second but Blaine's pupils were dilated, a woozy smile on his face atop a slightly ruffled shirt, which only made Kurt's heart beat more wildly in his chest.

"Well there might be a reason for that particular flaw coming to the surface," Blaine said, leaning close again, a sly smile apparent instantly.

Kurt avoided Blaine's lips, almost comically. "Semantics," Kurt mused, eyebrows darting up again cleverly.

Blaine began to laugh, clasping both of Kurt's hands in his own and pulling them down to his lap. Kurt shuddered, suddenly rendered completely incapable of speech due to the subtle insistence Blaine showed. The air thick, as usual, surrounded them in a second, both lost in the moment and drunk on the ability to let loose with another person.

"Maybe," Blaine whispered, "but you don't seem to be complaining."

Kurt swallowed a giggle. "And there's another," he sang cheekily, "so much cockiness Blaine Thornton."

"No, just the truth."

The sound of Blaine's voice, low and velvety, as his lips traced the tip of Kurt's nose was a little too much to handle. It was then that Blaine tipped forward, pushing Kurt over in an instant and hovering above as Kurt gasped indignantly.

"What are you doing?" he cried, half shock and half amusement.

Blaine placed his hands either side of Kurt's hips, almost pinning him on the spot, and leaned over slowly with a smile. "This," Blaine said in the softest voice just before his lips found Kurt's once more, eliciting another muffled gasp.

It was like a dream. Kurt knew he should close his eyes, knew he should melt into the moment and drift into a happy place surrounded by Blaine's arms and with Blaine's lips pressing feather-light kisses but something kept him on the brink. It was a feeling too intense that it tingled fiercely throughout his entire body, sending every nerve ending into over-drive with each fraction of movement. Nothing had even felt as wonderful; not only was it playful, it was fun and unbridled. As Blaine's lips sucked free, Kurt's breathing shuddered causing his eyelashes to flutter in time. Their foreheads pressed together naturally.

"Wow," Kurt rushed out, a tiny puff of breath blowing against Blaine's cheek. It was monumentally sexy and far too cute at the same time- those two parallels, where Kurt was concerned, embodied the same meaning and double the impact. Their eyes lingered together, hearts beating close. "O_h_ mon dieu," Kurt murmured, his eyes dazed still but a lazy smile spread across his face prompting the most delicious reaction from the boy lingering above him. Blaine laughed, lowering his head on Kurt's chest, feeling the warmth in its rise and fall.

"Promise me something?" he laughed out lovingly.

Kurt cocked an eyebrow, still highly amused and nerves firing. "Depends what it is."

"Always," Blaine kissed him again lightly, "always... always practice your French on me... ?"

It was Kurt's turn to respond, a bright smile evident as he turned his head a fraction. "Only if you promise that you'll keep having so many faults like this one. Impatience looks good on you."

He knew it was far too flirty than intended but the noise that came from Blaine's lips before he rushed down for another kiss was the most exquisite form of reassurance.

-.-.-.-.

Mornings were the most incredible moments. Kurt always dressed in routine, allowing allotted time for specific rituals that were almost as old as he was. He sang normally, letting his voice soar over the rush of the shower and then hum tunefully along with his iPod. Pavi often joined in, much to Kurt's amusement.

As he topped up Pavi's water, there was a knock on the door- right on time.

As Kurt grabbed a pile of books, not before making a quick and frantic check in the mirror, he pulled the door open much too eagerly.

"Morning," Blaine said, as he did every day, holding out a steaming coffee which Kurt always happily took with a contented sigh.

They usually walked in a comfortable silence, pressed close to each other's side the entirety of the hall way, down the large flight of stairs when Blaine's hand would linger on the small of Kurt's back protectively and along through the rush of students. Kurt would sometimes reach to carry Blaine's books, enjoying the small gesture and the inevitable flash of fondness he was treated to in response.

Kisses were kept to a minimum in the hallway, mainly as their relationship was known but kept from being thrust down every student's throat. It felt unusual to display affection in front of a school full of boys where it was unusual compared to an ordinary school where genders mixed freely. Neither minded, instead feeling adventurous and charmed by the many ways they'd express their feelings.

"You ready for your test?" Blaine asked, wrapping his fingers around Kurt's wrist and pressing lightly to his pulse point.

Kurt breathed in slowly, squaring his shoulders and enjoying how much taller he felt. Blaine smirked, knowing exactly the thoughts that were cascading though Kurt's busy brain. "Oui," was the reply, sure and lyrical.

"Well," Blaine said softly, "good luck and I'll see you after for lunch. Meet you in the cafeteria?"

Kurt nodded. He turned to enter the door, most other students having filtered inside leaving the hallway much clearer, but stopped and flipped back around.

"Blaine?"

The other boy stopped and swivelled on his heels, his perfectly slim starched uniform remaining in place.

He spoke with a smile. "Mmm hmm?"

Kurt could feel the blush creep in as it always did then he could feel his emotions conveyed openly. It was still so new but the practice of testing the waters and experimenting was becoming a little addictive. With a hammering heart and racing brain, Kurt scrambled to find words.

"Thank you for the coffee," Kurt stated, his eyes rolling of their own accord. It was awfully obvious that he simply didn't want Blaine to leave.

"You're welcome," Blaine soothed, stepping closer and planting a quick kiss on Kurt's temple, "and I'll miss you too."

Now it was Blaine's turn to flush somewhat as he turned on his heels and sauntered off down the corridor. Kurt watched him go, the bell ringing loudly, with only one thought: _he's mine._

-.-.-.-.-.-

Kurt's fingers were shaking of their own accord. He'd been treated to a date and fussed over enough to warrant serious reciprocation and, for that reason, he stood in front of his full length mirror preening and straightening. Wes had been more than flexible, much to Kurt's surprise, about keeping any Warblers away from his dorm room. Most of the guys had other plans on a Friday evening so had left the grounds but Kurt knew, as usual, Wes had planned his DVD night for those remaining.

Kurt glanced around the room. Sweet talking Isla into allowing him to use the kitchen had been difficult as he was a new and relatively junior student but as he'd explained it was for a very special occasion, her eyes had sparkled. Kurt didn't give anything further away, except that it was an important anniversary and he simply wished to cook a modest meal with one oven. She had all but supervised him to prepare the most incredible mozzarella, onion and tomato salad with basil dressing to start, followed by a slow baked vegetable lasagne.

The room was suitably ambient. Kurt checked his strategically placed candles and smiled widely, a little shake in his lips. The nerves were kicking in, they were inevitable but if anyone knew how to create a mood, Kurt did. He was sure of his handiwork, letting his eyes glide over the small table pulled into the centre of the room laid with two plates, cutlery and two water goblets. It was simple, very chic and effortless- perfect.

The shudder to his fingers intensified as time ticked by. He straightened his shirt collar, smiling at the ensemble he'd created that afternoon. A fitted white and black herringbone shirt buttoned high teamed with slim fitting dark jeans; it was striking enough to cause Kurt to feel confident but simple enough so as not to overwhelm the situation. The shirt cost a month's pay check at the Hummel garage so Kurt was eager to give it its first outing – where better than with Blaine on the six month anniversary of their meeting.

It was growing dark slowly causing the dusky light in Kurt's room to glimmer in the most astonishing patterns. Kurt swallowed every minute, frantic about checking every last detail over and over in a manner akin to OCD- it had to be flawless. As it was the very first time he'd ever cooked for someone in this way and definitely the very first date he'd planned himself, Kurt was desperate to ensure that nothing was over-looked.

Blaine was used to posh dinners, high class events and the finery his family name brought with it; in comparison to Kurt's previous Friday night dinners when Burt would prepare a modest but hearty meal (usually either burned or under cooked), drop a couple of bottles of soda (which Kurt always swapped for bottled water) on the table and finished up the evening playing cards or watching 'The Deadliest Catch', Blaine was practically royalty. Kurt cherished those dinners now, realising their significance and enjoying the comfort of home but this dinner, this particular Friday evening, was almost defining.

As Kurt was smoothing down the silken cloth he'd spread over the table, he watched his hands shaking. They wouldn't stop and he knew exactly why they wouldn't. Blaine was becoming the instigator in their relationship; his tactile nature and abundant confidence made it effortless but, for Kurt, it was a little harder. He was affectionate, yes, but still there was a nagging thought in the back of his mind that flickered to the forefront every time he considered touching Blaine or kissing him, causing him to question if Blaine wanted it or if Kurt was acting appropriately or even if his urges were normal. As odd as it sounded, Kurt realised his abnormal way of over thinking and his past tendencies to push where pushing weren't appreciated, so there was a mechanism in place now, one which would kick in whenever an intimate situation presented itself. Tonight was the night he'd planned to get rid of it all-together. He was going to be in charge and show Blaine that he was willing and pretty much intoxicated with the need to do so many things that his brain could barely cope with so much want on such a frequent cycle.

There was a knock on the door. Kurt closed his eyes, pressing his fingers to his temples, and took the deepest of breaths before, once again, smoothing his shirt, lengthening his neck and striding to the door.

As he opened it, there was no amount of prior notice that could have prepared him for the way Blaine looked. There never was.

"Hi."

Kurt swallowed again, a tiny smile on his lips. "You look...," he breathed, "really nice."

Kurt caught the blush on Blaine's cheeks prompting his tummy to swirl with the most intense set of butterflies imaginable.

"You look as incredible as always," Blaine stated matter-of-factly with a grin, "and wow, I mean... wow." Kurt watched as Blaine took in the room in all its glory, eyes lingering on the smaller details which screamed '_this is an important night'_.

"I've been busy," Kurt said, ducking his head with a quick bite of his lip.

"Evidently."

Blaine could barely believe his eyes. The room, normally beautifully decorated anyway, was candlelit, sparkling and arranged so elegantly that it was difficult to recognise its former state. His eyes eventually fell on Kurt who stood to his side, his gaze mirroring Blaine's own in a clear effort to map his reaction. Kurt was a little nervous, it was obvious, but it was the underlying confidence that shone through and coursed Blaine's veins with an odd sense of pride.

"So, we've got mozzarella salad to begin followed by slow roasted vegetable lasagne with sun dried tomato salad and erm," Kurt paused dramatically, fingers lingering over a cloth covered platter, "a pretty enormous New York vanilla cheesecake, you know, if you're interested?"

Blaine saw the smirk and bounced on his heels. "You remembered?"

Kurt flushed slightly. "Course. After the five hundredth time you told me it was your favourite, I think I'd just about got the idea."

Blaine sighed, slow and deep. "You," he breathed out, walking towards Kurt, "are just... well, I don't know."

Kurt laughed lightly, eyes flickering. "Go on... you know how much of a fan I am of hearing how amazing I am."

Blaine laughed loudly, reaching for Kurt's hands and pulling him closer. "Oh well in that case I refuse to indulge you."

The scowl that came in response was possibly the most adorable image Blaine had ever seen. Petulance never failed to look good on Kurt, as silly as that sounded. Blaine watched a cheeky grin form on Kurt's face. He shook his head, chuckling lightly.

"You hungry?"

"Very."

As they sat together, eating, Blaine noticed things that he hadn't before. Kurt would daintily cut each portion into pristine shapes before lightly placing them in his mouth. It was mesmerising how specific he was at this tiny and obviously inherent routine. Then came the sipping of water. Blaine was sure he'd never ever, as long as he lived, get used to Kurt's lips. They were unique to Kurt in so many ways but as he watched them pout at the edge of a water glass, he couldn't stop looking every time Kurt licked his lips, his sharp tongue flicking over his bottom lip.

Kurt's skin tingled. He knew Blaine was watching him as he could feel eyes lingering, their gaze leaving his skin feeling hot and stomach swimming with a surprising amount of desire. It was oddly intimate but it required no action on his part and he was reassured that he didn't eat like a horse... something was working in his favour.

"Kurt this is amazing," Blaine eventually spoke, breaking the tension.

"I know," was the reply, sarcastic and delivered with a smile, "Isla helped me as I may have almost burned Dalton down." Blaine raised his eyebrows, amused. "Never used a gas over before," Kurt explained with a sharp laugh.

"Well, it's delicious."

As they reached desert, Kurt was proud of himself for remembering to wheel a clean catering trolley down to place behind his door for ease. The noises Blaine made while he ate his cheesecake were beyond distracting, the low 'yum' and the breathless gasps at each bite were enough to drive Kurt wild. It was the incentive he needed for the confidence boost necessary to carry out his plans for the evening.

Kurt motioned to collect Blaine's clear plate but was swatted away quickly.

"Let me," Blaine drawled, smiling sweetly and sauntering over to the trolley. He dropped the crockery and at that moment Kurt felt the fear creep in. _Now what?_

Blaine turned with a smile, cocking his head. "You know how you always talk about the little things? The firsts?"

Kurt swallowed quickly, he could barely stop it, and nodded. "Yes."

Blaine's head ducked slightly as he rubbed his lips together. He was still on the other side of the room. "Nobody has ever made a meal for me before."

The soaring happy flood that made his way to Kurt's heart acted as a catalyst. It was exactly what he needed to be reminded of – Blaine wasn't 'Mr Experienced' in _everything_.

"Well now they have," Kurt said, his voice smaller than intended. It was silent for a second until Kurt took another breath, shaking his head slightly to reduce the tension. "Do you want to watch a movie? I um, well I bought elderflower spritzer because I didn't think water was very special and well," he pressed his lips together, "I didn't know what you'd like so I hope it's ok."

That was Blaine's cue to cross the room. His heart hammered as he drew closer to Kurt, desperate to just reach out and touch. The fact that Kurt had gone to so much trouble and spent actual quality time considering what Blaine wanted was enough to cause his heart to clench in the tightest burst of adoration.

"I've never had it before," Blaine explained, sidling closer, "but I'm sure it's nice."

Kurt let out a small cough. "I um... movie?"

"What did you have in mind?"

As Kurt all but jumped over to his collection, Blaine made himself comfortable on Kurt's bed, breathing in deeply, inhaling the faint smell of vanilla and cologne- inherently Kurt.

"Well," Kurt spun around, DVDs fanned out in his hand, "I have a lot."

Blaine laughed. "Well, as you made me food and I'm feeling spoiled right now, how about you choose? What's your favourite movie? I can't believe I don't know that already."

Kurt ran his tongue along his teeth and smiled. "Well, I'm not sure you're going to want to watch it."

"Try me."

"The Sound of Music."

Blaine chuckled lightly. "So much makes sense now."

As Kurt crawled onto his bed after sliding the DVD into the player, he frowned at Blaine. "And what is that supposed to mean Blaine Thornton?"

The look of sheer playfulness on Blaine's face was precious. "Your mum was a fan I presume?"

A slow smile spread on Kurt's face, only tinged slightly with a flicker of painful memories. "Yes."

Blaine cringed inwardly, regretting broaching the subject judging by the flash of pain in Kurt's eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to bri-"

"No," Kurt silenced, raising a gentle hand, "don't say sorry for that. It was her favourite. We used to watch it together and it's where my name comes from so..."

"And the rosy cheeks are just a coincidence, right?"

Kurt went to slap Blaine's arm, shooting daggers from his eyes but Blaine only used the momentum to his advantage, grabbing Kurt's arm sneakily and pulling him close. "Thornton you're on thin ice. My cheeks are not rosy, I'm not a doll."

"Thought that teacher of yours used to call you 'porcelain'?" Blaine asked, wriggling as Kurt sighed into his shoulder, his right arm tentatively placing itself lightly on his chest.

"She did," Kurt retorted, "but I like to think that has more to do with the impeccable care I take in maintaining my skin rather than any creepy resemblance to china dolls."

They fell silent, Kurt relishing in the rush of two very intense emotions. The opening music of the movie never failed to instigate a flurry of wistful melancholy and this night was no exception. Even more distracting was Blaine's general presence, tight against him and breathing slowly in the most mesmerising rhythmic pattern.

"Comfortable?" Blaine asked, breath hot against Kurt's ear.

"Mmm hmmm."

Kurt arched his back, pushing his feet into the duvet to curve around in order to see the TV positioned at the end of his bed. It was as his right foot pushed too far, that his leg entwined with Blaine's. He gasped and stopped moving for a second, expecting Blaine to react in some way but as Kurt glanced out of the corner of his eye, Blaine's were fixed on the screen, an arm still wrapped around his waist. Instead of reacting and pulling away, Kurt lay still and relaxed into the position, trying to picture something, anything horrific or distracting. It was a constant cycle of Mr Schuster's sweater vests again but this time it was teamed with Rachel Berry's garish blue pant suit and someone taking scissors to his favourite Marc Jacobs jacket. Nothing worked. He could feel the heat from Blaine and his brain was no longer responding. Now was the time to act- there was nothing to stop him.

"Blaine?"

"Yes?"

Kurt shuffled to a sitting position and took a breath. "Can I try something?"

Blaine's stomach clenched immediately, a warm sensation somewhere in the depths of his torso began to spread. "Go ahead." He had no idea what he was agreeing to but the glitter in Kurt's eyes caused feelings he wasn't ready to let go of.

Kurt pursed his lips again and untangled his legs for a second, long enough to slide one over Blaine's hips in order to straddle him. Blaine's breathing shallowed, his shoulders tensing as he watched Kurt's movements. Kurt kept his eyes transfixed as he let his hands rest just under Blaine's chin, slowly tickling down the front of his shirt to the buttons there. There was nothing in the world that could have made Blaine move a centimetre, instead he kept his eyes on Kurt's face and enjoyed, far too much, the look of intense concentration and the cautious lick he gave his lips. It was too hot to handle.

"I just wanted to, um..."

Blaine was careful not to make any sudden movements. He gradually pushed himself to a sitting position, Kurt moving in his lap to gain balance, and before they knew it they were sitting facing each other. Kurt's added height was perfect as he returned to unbuttoning Blaine's shirt with great attention paid to keeping his hands from shuddering- it was a fine line between confidence and falling completely apart. So many questions were firing through his head: _what is Blaine thinking? Does he want this to happen? Am I doing this right? Should I have kissed him first?_

In an effort to power through, Kurt stopped and chose to look into Blaine's eyes again. He was met with a slow smile, one so fused with heat that it took seconds for his lips to find another pair and press forward. The extra inches advantage forced Blaine back into the pillows with a gasp as Kurt kissed with purpose, letting his newly acquired skills lead him. At the second Kurt's hands resumed unbuttoning, Blaine could barely hold back any longer- desperation seemed to rise in his chest with a half gasp, half groan.

"Kurt," was all he could say. There were no other words to hand when he felt cool fingers slide inside his shirt and push it apart gently. Blaine could hardly breathe. Kurt's lips pressed harder, fingers turning to palms by his hips so delicately, the weight pressing down on him- all of this combined sought to simply melt his brain. Kurt began to kiss down Blaine's jaw to his collar bone, his stomach coiled up in nerves and excitement with the outcome being a delicious cocktail of headiness potent enough to spur him on. When Blaine felt Kurt's lips on his exposed skin, he lost it completely, especially as the touch was cooler than expected sending shivers cascading in the most incredible way. He had to grab onto something, to hold onto Kurt and do something instead of squirming underneath Kurt's more than attentive touch. As Kurt leaned up for a second, Blaine chose his moment to wrap his arms around Kurt's hips and flip them over. It was so quick that Kurt barely registered the audible gasp he made, instead his eyes rolled back feeling the spark and ache of whatever the feeling is pulsate through his body.

"Is this ok?" he gasped out, trying to breathe through Blaine's kisses.

The rumble of laughter in Blaine's throat was insanely hot and reminiscent of some beautiful dashing male lead in the movies he'd spent his entire life watching and dreaming about.

"No talking," Blaine offered, just as his hands found Kurt's shirt buttons. The same dizzying wooziness began to set in as gradually, slivers of skin began to appear. Kurt shut his eyes tight, trying to retain dignity and avoid making any noise which may turn him into a stereotypical hormone-ravaged teenager. That was the moment he realised he was. He'd wished for this for years. The abandon was blissful and addictive, something he could get very used to even on top of the intense waves of nerves threatening to snap the moment in a heartbeat.

It escalated quickly and before Kurt could grasp how and when, his shirt found itself pushed back. The first thought was '_oh god it's so expensive'_ followed by _'Blaine's lips'_ in a constant repetitive stream, enough to free his mind of any clothing related concerns.

"Blaine?"

In between languid kisses and the act of pushing his hands, palm down, around Kurt's middle, Blaine spoke. "Mmmm?"

"I need to... I need... Blaine... I need to know..."

Kurt felt the pressure lift a little from on top of him. Blaine sat back, eyes filled with concern. "Oh god we've got carried away haven't we?"

Kurt laughed sharply, screwed his eyes shut and groaned. "Shut up Kurt, shut up shut up shut up."

Blaine's smile was wide and affectionate. "What do you need to know?"

Kurt felt his pale skin redden at the way he looked, shirt open, hair no doubt mussed and lips obviously pouting. He cracked open his eyes. "Um."

Blaine chuckled, his hand sliding free and slowly teasing a stray lock of hair back into Kurt's perfectly style quiff. "Um?"

"Wow," Kurt mused, dazedly, "this isn't awful and awkward and embarrassing. Well... as much as it should be."

Blaine bit his lip, taking in every single part of the image below him. Kurt had instigated this, he'd been ballsy enough to start this off and it wasn't awkward at all, Kurt was right as always. "We're good together." Kurt's breath caught. He felt the enormous smile grace his lips but he couldn't look into Blaine's eyes, he just couldn't manage it as it was a one way street to an enormous amount of blushing, a ridiculously swooning expression and a noise reminiscent of something cat-like.

"Don't say those things," he whispered.

Blaine ducked his head, looking at Kurt through his eyelashes. "We're amazing together," he pressed, drawling the words out slower each time.

"Stop it," Kurt snapped, eyes closed now and his bottom teeth nipping his top lip.

He felt Blaine's lips tease at his own faintly and hardly touching. "I'd even go so far as to say it was magical."

Kurt laughed then, close to a giggle. "Found another flaw," he breathed.

"Never going to stop being pathetically romantic so get used to it," Blaine sang happily into Kurt's skin.

"Oh god I could get used to this." Kurt blinked his eyes open frantically. He hadn't said it had he? No. Definitely not.

_Oh god he had. He's pretty much whimpered. Oh god._

Blaine looked at him, really looked, and Kurt couldn't look away. "This," Blaine motioned between them with a gaze so intense that Kurt felt himself squirm, "this is something special isn't it?" Kurt couldn't speak, his usually vocal nature suddenly turned numb with passion and a million other emotions intent on rendering him incoherent. Instead, he nodded. "You're indulging my pathetic side and you're not being sarcastic and telling me to shut up or that you hate me or that I'm straight out of a harlequin romance."

Kurt bit his lip again (it was a natural reaction to anything Blaine said) and laughed lightly. "They're just words. It's my thing."

"I know," Blaine sighed happily, "and I love it but you're not doing it."

"I don't want to," Kurt said, his voice tiny. They were still half naked and sitting in the world's most intimate position but for some reason the making out had stopped and they were talking. It was so inherently... them.

"Why not?"

Kurt was silent for a second. "I um," he swallowed, "speech isn't really possible."

It was Blaine's turn to blush. "Gotcha," he breathed against Kurt's neck as he leaned back in, close and warm.

"Is this ok?" Kurt murmured, nerves suddenly setting in as he remembered his bare chest possibly wasn't the image Blaine had expected.

"Is what ok?" Kurt felt the vibrations of the words under his ear as he wriggled into Blaine's touch.

"Me."

Blaine flinched. "Quit while you're ahead," he warned, shaking his head. Kurt chose that moment to sit up, awkwardly detangling himself and kneeling in front of Blaine, regaining his added height.

He leaned in close, feeling Blaine's breath on his nose. "May I?"

The warm and lopsided smile in response was better than words. Kurt stretched his fingers before laying them tenderly on Blaine's collar bone, tracing the curve of his neck and drinking in Blaine's smell.

"Do you realise you tilt your head when you do that?" Blaine muttered breathlessly, his skin tingling again from the ghost of Kurt's fingers.

Kurt stopped and locked their eyes again. "Is it weird?"

"No, not weird at all, it's just different. Why do you do it?"

Kurt blinked back, unsure if the truth and absolute honesty was going to come back to bite him when Blaine was reminded of how virginal and completely inexperienced he was. "I've never really, um, never touched anyone before. I'm making the most of it."

It was the heaviness of Blaine's eyes and the way they slid closed with a smile. "Don't let me stop you."

Kurt laughed nervously and continued, his fingers outlining every curve of Blaine's neck, his shoulder and then eventually, with a deep breath, eased Blaine's shirt over his shoulders, letting it slide down his arms and onto the bed behind him. With a quick glance into Blaine's eyes to ground himself, he basked in the way his chest tightened with an odd rush of emotion- an emotion far too deep to bear.

"That would be my shoulder," Blaine whispered, lowering his head to Kurt's gaze with a grin.

Kurt chimed out a laugh so sweet that Blaine felt himself fall completely in love. It was the most intimate moment of his entire life and nothing felt as fitting or as perfect- he was sure nothing else ever would. Nobody had touched him this way. Kurt wasn't just letting his fingers feel skin, he was memorising, tracking every single millimetre and was so intent on just touching and experiencing that the closeness was overwhelming.

"You're shorter than me but much broader."

"Sylvie used to call me her munchkin," Blaine admitted, immediately regretting it. He winced, waiting for Kurt's reaction.

"There goes the least sexy thing anyone will ever say to me," Kurt giggled, his chest wobbling as he sat back on his heels. He was laughing infectiously now.

"Oh I just lost you didn't I?" Blaine asked with a desperate frown.

Kurt looked up, his hair now falling in his eyes and eyelashes fluttering. "Will you stay here tonight?"

"If I can avoid the corridor police, definitely. We haven't caused them to suspect so far."

"I know we've slept beside each other before but-"

"I call big spoon," Blaine rushed out, words spilling together it was so fast. He nibbled his lip with a smirk.

"Deal."

Blaine climbed off the bed, noticing the clock on Kurt's nightstand was flashing close to midnight. "You want to sleep now?"

"We move fast," Kurt said quietly with a wrinkled brow. The frantic and changeable events had left him reeling. Blaine sat back down, nudging him with his shoulder.

"I know."

"I like it in a really weird way."

Blaine glanced over to find Kurt grinning quite ridiculously. "One extreme to the other." Kurt nodded.

"Pandora's box..."

It was on that note and with a happy grin, Kurt realised just how far they'd come. The nerves were there, they were real and distracting but it was the power to battle through them and to experience what lay beyond. The fact that he'd begun to stop questioning every detail was like being presented to front row seats at New York fashion week- life changing.

It took them a short while to change. Kurt disappeared into the bathroom, his eyes finding the mirror immediately prompting his hand to fly to his mouth. His hair stuck up a little, curling at the bottom, his cheeks were slightly pink and eyes glazed but the smile painted on his lips was unmistakeable. For the first time in a very long time, his fingers did not re-preen, they resisted and enjoyed the rush of happiness knowing that on the other side of the door was Blaine... waiting for him. He felt the tension in his stomach but relished in it, knowing that he was going to fall asleep wrapped in someone's arms for the first time in his entire life. It was something so fused with intimacy, however, knowing Blaine was going to be so close and would be the one to share such a moment with him- that was the deciding factor.

He folded his clothes neatly, sliding into a pair of blue cotton shorts and a white t-shirt before teasing the door open gradually. The tidal wave of insecurity hit prematurely causing Kurt to walk slowly and his shoulders to curl in on themselves slightly. It was a stark contrast to his usually fierce stance.

"Which side do you like to sleep on?"

The image was adorable and wildly mind-blowing. The curls weren't gelled down as much and Blaine had borrowed a pair of dark grey lounge pants and a black t-shirt which left nothing to the imagination. He checked the lock on his door, flicked off a still singing Julie Andrews regretfully and made his way with a pulsing heart towards the bed, the insecurity dissolving slowly.

"Any."

Blaine focused in on Kurt's face. He knew. "Sleeping together is pretty big isn't it?"

"Huge."

"I won't bite, I promise." The cheekiness with which Blaine's words were delivered was enough to break the ice. In one swift movement, Kurt flicked off his lamp, blew out the candles and slid under the covers.

The heat was the first thing he noticed. Sleeping alone was a singular battle to warm up the covers so that no matter where you moved, you weren't shivering. Kurt's eyes travelled over the shadowed room, lingering on a sleeping Pavi and then turned on the pillow to meet a pair of eyes shining bright amidst the blackness.

"Blaine this is so weird."

"Come here," Blaine said gently, his words spoken with a smile.

Blaine reached out, tugging Kurt towards him.

"Bossy."

"You love it."

Kurt was sure he was supposed to face away from Blaine and lie as people did in movies with their arms wrapped together in front of them but it wasn't so simple. Kurt pressed his cheek against Blaine's chest, curling his arms up too so that space between them was non-existent. The heat enveloped them both instantly and doing it all perfect and staged just wasn't an option anymore.

"Never thought I was a cuddly person," Kurt spoke softly.

Blaine pulled his arms in tighter, keeping them tense and, in turn, Kurt held closer to his chest.

"You're so wrong," Blaine murmured fondly into his hair, "but I suppose you have to put up with me so what hope did you have?"

"I'm doomed," Kurt laughed, nuzzling closer and letting his shoulders relax eventually.

"Thank you for tonight Kurt, I really mean it."

"You're welcome. Anniversaries are important to me even if they are of the day we first met. If I celebrate Lady Ga Ga's birthday then it's only right I celebrate you too."

Kurt felt the sing-song laugh rise in Blaine's chest and his arms squeezing him tighter. He shuffled, feeling every single contact point. Blaine's arm was a warm weight around his waist, his face buried in Kurt's hair and their legs were tangled easily; it was a cocoon of heat, lust, comfort and safety. Kurt felt Blaine's fingers wrestle free from their hold and begin drawing unidentifiable patterns across his lower back, just above the hem of his t-shirt. He shuddered with a stifled giggle.

"I'm going to apologise for this in advance..." Kurt didn't have the will power or sense of whereabouts to even answer in words, instead choosing to nod a reply.

Blaine began to hum fluidly, like melted butter on toast, like velvet and in the smoothest deepest tones. The hums soon turned to words but Kurt only caught the final few phrases and was sure he would never experience a moment so defining for the rest of his life.

"_I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece, I'm complete..."_


	33. Learning Curve  Part 1

**Well, this one is long overdue once more. I've had the busiest, craziest, most intense few weeks. I've hardly had a second to myself. I'm on my week break at the moment so I can get a couple of Chapters out this week! Thank god! I can only apologise for the wait...  
**

**FIRSTLY, this Chapter is dedicated to Mot51****. I didn't want to reply to your message until this Chapter was completed. Your message made me cry and I was so utterly touched and honoured by your words. I sincerely wish you the best and am so unbelievably happy that this story provided you with some happiness at the very least. This one is for you.**

**A massive thank you goes to courtney (court4short) who helped me organise my thoughts for the plan for this Chapter and the next. THANK YOU so much for your loveliness and for being so insightful and such a cheerleader for this story : )**

**Megiko-chan**** – I have to say an ENORMOUS thank you for your message and for linking me to your ADORABLE and frankly, insanely talented drawings. To think this story inspired them in some way it FAR too crazy to believe. I am so happy that this story made you smile through a tough time. I'm sending lots of best wishes.**

**WELL, HASN'T FEBRUARY BEEN INSANE FOR EVERYTHING GLEE RELATED. Inparticularly, for US Kurt and Blaine fans! SPOILERS AHEAD SO SKIP TO THE STORY IF YOU'RE AVOIDING THEM!**

**While I thought the SB episode was incredible and AMAZING writing (plus the image of Darren eating biscotti and licking his stirrer will strangely stick with me for a long time), it was SLS that did me in. I really can't believe half of the stuff that went down in that episode. I'll not go into the sheer HILARITY that is Puck and Lauren. Lauren's kick ass and the moment Puck groans "damnnnn" when she walks away... I knew my heart was sold. EVERY character had a KICK ASS story and so much development (except I can do without douchebag Finn. WHERE IS OLD FINN?) but then we turn to Kurt+Blaine. Oh my heart.**

**The character development we got for Blaine was beyond ANYTHING I expected. RM shocked me! WIGYA was inspired and I know some people were a bit unsure about it... it is, to me, one of Glee's BEST and more INSANE performances. For the LGBT community, the fact a young guy is seen to be serenading another guy and expressing his sexuality – to me, that's incredibly brave and wonderful of the writers. YES, it was awkward and too much but that's the point of it all – Blaine's a teenager who's learning and who is fuelled by romance and his heart/desires. I thought it was brilliant. The moment he looks Jeremiah up and down KILLS me and not to mention the "baby girl" moment... it'll always be one of my favourite Glee moments now! Darren was perfection at that song.**

**Can I just say, Kurt doodling their names together said he was plotting weekend outfits. I gasped because I wrote that same thing at the beginning of my previous chapter. It just made me smile! Smitten!Kurt is EVEN MORE gorgeous and adorable than I'd ever been able to imagine. **

**The best and most incredible part was obviously the coffee shop scene. To avoid an EPIC rant about how awesome and touching it was, it was wonderful to see Kurt's maturity and honesty and fun to see Blaine's lack of experience and lack of game. I loved that. It made his character REAL and ENDEARING. Chris' teary eyes ... well, I have no words. The way it was written, the acting (and Darren dude, you stepped it up!) and the sentiment behind the words. THE SLOW BURN, OH THE SLOW BURN. Thank you Glee Gods. I'm not concerned about them as so many other people are... I KNOW there are spoilers about drunk!Blaine and him possibly questioning if he's bi sexual regardless of RM's comments assuring us Blaine is gay ... I'm kind of ridiculously excited to see drunk!Blaine! Bring him on... but I'm praying for tipsy Kurt too :D  
The fact they're modelling the relationship on When Harry Met Sally .MIND. It's one of my top 5 favourite films. Always has been. You guys all know I'm a sucker for the slow burn...!**

**There's just so much to say and I shall NOT bore you any longer... safe to say, Gleebruary has been awesome ;)  
**

**For those who have seen the photoshoot released of Darren today... well, jesus mary mother of god and all that is holy. Safe to say, it improved my Valentine's Day massively.**

**Finally, I know some of the canon info has caused elements of this story to become AU (e.g. the fact Kurt isn't a boarder at Dalton) but I hope it doesn't take anything away from the enjoyment. I, personally, am completely besotted by canon Kurt+Blaine so far.**

**So, all I'm left to say is HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY/SINGLE AWARENESS DAY! I hope you like this Chapter. I really loved writing some of the moments in here! Please enjoy ...**

* * *

"Kurt?"

Blaine laughed, low in his throat and feeling the warmth of his own breath bounce back from Kurt's hair. He couldn't move, he lay cocooned in the duvet, wrapped up in Kurt's arms and pressed into the pillows. The muffled response was nothing short of precious but Blaine lost feeling in his right arm approximately twenty minutes ago admist his epically long session of mapping Kurt's sleeping face and cherishing the tiny breaths he would make at random intervals.

"Kurt? Kurt?" he whispered, a little louder now.

"Mmmhhphhh?"

Blaine lay on his back, Kurt's face pressed into the crook of his neck, Kurt's arms looped tightly around his waist, clutching at the material of his t-shirt and legs in a tangle. The heat was intoxicating causing his eyes to droop and fall heavily but nothing was as overwhelming as the closeness of someone else. It'd been odd to fall asleep with someone, to let them lie beside you and share such a personal and open moment but there was nothing, Blaine had decided, more special than Kurt being the one he did it with. He'd never experienced such intense feelings and simply wanted to bask in them and focus on the way his body felt tense with emotion, if only he could free his arm and stop it tingling fiercely with pins and needles.

"Kurt I need my arm back," he tried, laughing as he spoke. The vibrations seemed to rouse Kurt a little more.

"It's _**my**_ arm," Kurt drawled, lazily, tugging Blaine closer and sighing happily. He was obviously dazed with sleep.

"Not that I'm an ace at biology but I have a distinct feeling that it's attached to me therefore, I've pretty much got the right to declare ownership." It was petty and silly but Blaine laughed once more, enjoying the giddiness of the moment.

"_**Mine**_," Kurt groaned almost exasperated, pressing his nose into Blaine's neck, Blaine feeling the warmth of his breath, causing a frantic shiver to travel down his spine.

"Can I propose a deal?" Blaine asked with a chuckle.

"Whatever," was the mumbled response, still lazy with sleep.

"If I have my arm back I'll let you put all of that gunk on my face like you've been begging me to do."

Kurt woke in an instant, his face lifting immediately from Blaine's body and hovering somewhere just about his face. Kurt smiled, the world sharpening into focus and revealing Blaine, hair mussed and cheeks flushed with warmth, below him.

"Oh wow," Kurt sighed out, his lips dragging into a slow smile, "good morning."

Blaine smiled wide and wriggled his arm free, using it to push himself a tiny bit higher on the pillows.

"Morning sleepy."

"You mean what you said?" Kurt asked happily, sliding himself up to rest his head against Blaine's chest without leaning on his dead arm, "will you let me?"

"You have my full permission."

Kurt shuffled his shoulders, pleased with himself. Blaine let out a deep sigh of contentment, wrapping his now awake arm around Kurt's waist.

"I knew you'd cave," Kurt teased, sitting up suddenly smirking.

With his eyebrows raised in indignation, Blaine gasped. "So sure of yourself aren't you?"

"Always," Kurt affirmed, nodding proudly. He seemed to trail his eyes over Blaine's body slowly with a bite of his lip. "Can I try something?"

Blaine nodded, wrapping his arms free. Kurt grinned and shuffled down under the covers to push Blaine gently into a sitting position. Kurt lay down, his arms outstretched and cheeks tinged pink, and gestured for Blaine to settle down.

Nobody had ever done that before. Yes, Blaine had been given cuddles and close hugs from friends but he'd never breathed into them, never melted close or snuggled deeper into someone else before. He'd always wanted to.

Blaine accepted instantly, laying his head lightly against Kurt's shoulder and finding it difficult to breathe as dainty fingertips brushed their way along his back and held tight to his waist. He was clasped tight but still didn't sink into the embrace. Kurt, although taller, was thinner and much more delicate.

Kurt could feel it. It wasn't as close and certainly wasn't as snug as before. "Blaine I swear if you think you're going to break me, I'm going to break _**you**_."

Blaine closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. This is a little new to me."

"You want me to make a list of all of things that have been new to me in the past few months? Because we'd be here for hours." His voice was laced with slight annoyance and a hint of desperation. "I want to be able to give skin-tight hugs like you do. It's always me snuggled up and wrapped up in you so it's only fair," he sighed, talking into Blaine's curls, "plus it gives me a perfect chance to play with your hair."

Blaine felt his shoulders melt. He let his weight press down into Kurt's body and held tight himself, pressing his own nose into the space below Kurt's jaw where the scent of strawberry face cream and vanilla was overpowering. Kurt's entire body dissolved into cascading butterflies as Blaine nuzzled closer.

Lithe fingers began to diffuse each singular curl, brushing them aside then knotting them together once more. Blaine's scalp tingled at each slight touch sending shivers down his spine and a blanket of fizziness deep into his chest. "It's so nice."

"My fetish will never cease," Kurt murmured, drunk on the sensation of pulling Blaine tighter against him.

"Good," Blaine whispered woozily, "because I need you to never stop doing what you're doing right now."

Blaine felt Kurt's other hand, the one he could see, toy with his own fingers that lay just over Kurt's heart. In seconds, their fingers were laced together. Blaine began to draw idle patterns across Kurt's palm, eliciting a shudder from beneath him.

It was silent for a moment, only the sound of birds outside of the window in the very early morning and Kurt's heart beating quickly in his chest, before Kurt spoke dreamily and broke it.

"I never ever expected it to feel this..." His voice trailed off in awe, the words couched in true feeling and emotion.

"Much?" Blaine offered.

"Yes. This much. It's like I can't stand it sometimes."

Blaine felt his throat thicken. Nothing could sum up the way those words made him feel, the way they grounded him but sent him souring simultaneously. They were so inexplicably true.

"I love you," Blaine breathed out, feeling Kurt's breathing hitch momentarily, "I never thought it was possible either."

Kurt's brain flooded with emotion, unable to really hold onto the moment or process a coherent thought. He was able to do this, to say flat out what he felt and to feel confident that he could trust Blaine implicitly with anything. As their fingers knotted together even tighter, Kurt pressed a warm kiss to Blaine's forehead and followed by nestling down, closing the gap of those last few millimetres before sleep took over again.

* * *

Kurt brow furrowed deeply in concentration as he positioned his tubes of lotion, bottles of toner and the many applicators on his small glass shelf by the sink in his en-suite.

"Blaine?" he called, smiling excitedly and pressing his fingers together in a steeple shape.

Blaine dragged himself off his bed, folding his European History notes into a text book. He could hear the happiness in Kurt's voice, the anticipation of being able to fuss and preen someone else.

"Look at you," Blaine teased, leaning against the frame of the door, still in his shirt and tie, "you're positively giddy."

Kurt hopped on his heels with a grin. "Sit," he urged pulling Blaine's elbow and forcing him into the chair positioned close to the mirror.

Blaine groaned theatrically. "So what are all of these things?"

Kurt frowned, sliding a wipe from the long packet. "These... things... are products for your skin," he rolled his eyes, "and they're the reason you always touch my cheeks."

Kurt flushed at Blaine's very obvious smirk. "Oh you noticed that?"

With a playful nudge to Blaine's shoulder, Kurt narrowed his eyes. "Yes. Now be quiet and tilt your head back." Obediently, Blaine did as he was told, biting his lip to stop the laughter threatening to break forth. Kurt was impossibly adorable and nothing was as sexy as Kurt Hummel on a power trip. "You're going to need to loosen... this," Kurt advised, motioning to Blaine's collar and perfectly positioned tie.

"You're in charge. You do it."

Indignantly, Kurt sighed, breathing back a smile as he sauntered in front of Blaine, kneeling to tug the tie free, looping it over his neck. Blaine kept his eyes on Kurt, still biting his lip cheekily. He was enjoying it far too much. "You look so impressed with yourself right now it's sickening."

The burst of laughter from Blaine was silenced quickly as Kurt swiped a freezing cold wipe across his skin and close to his lips.

"When did you get into all of this?" Blaine asked, his head tilted against the back of the chair as Kurt busied himself slowly wiping the ice cold liquid over his temples and cheekbones.

"I used to watch my mum when she put on her make-up and she always talked to me and explained what she was doing," Kurt smiled slightly, his eyes flickering to avoid Blaine's, "and when she died, I tried to remember some of what she said. I found some of her old products and it went from there."

Blaine listened intently. He knew it was difficult for Kurt to talk about her and even remember her but it was something he felt so proud and privileged to hear. He wasn't part of the Hummel family and had no right to such information really but the fact that Kurt felt comfortable enough to tell him things so personal and cherished... it meant the world.

"I wish she could see you now," Blaine whispered, hoping he wasn't crossing a line, "she'd be so proud I bet."

Kurt swallowed, eyes focused on Blaine's forehead and the line of cream ready to be spread evenly. He could feel his throat tightening. "Maybe."

"Definitely," Blaine urged with a smile.

"You have good skin you know?" Kurt rushed out, obviously changing the subject, "I mean, it needs severe moisture but it's really clear and pretty soft for a guy."

"I don't do anything to it. Soap and water is all."

Kurt felt himself groan inwardly. _Boys_. They had no idea how simple it was to keep their skin in check.

"I can, um," Kurt tried, feeling almost ridiculous in the moment, "do it for you every now and then if you'd like. Only if you'd like because I know you were forced into this by coercion."

With a warm smile, Blaine turned the chair to face Kurt. He reached for his hands, watching as Kurt's eyes widened, and drew him down onto his lap, his legs either side of the chair.

"This stuff smells good," Blaine said simply, "it smells of you."

Kurt could feel that creeping, tight swooning feeling tug at his stomach. He shivered all over as Blaine's eyes deepened mere inches away.

"So is... is that a yes?" Blaine nodded with a slight laugh.

"Yes."

It was then that Kurt attempted to regain coherence and compose himself. He reached for the next bottle of intense moisturiser and got back to work, still sitting in Blaine's lap happily. Every other second they'd glance at each other to either smile or simply let their eyes connect.

After a period of silence, Kurt leaned back a little, swiping his finger finally over Blaine's cheek with a grin.

"Thank you for letting me do this."

Talking wasn't necessary. Instead, Blaine leaned close and planted a lingering kiss on Kurt's lips. "Anytime."

* * *

The next morning, Blaine was shocked to find Wes up early and typing at his computer frantically. Wiping his eyes, Blaine peered over to the desk. "Any harder and you'll break the keys. What are you doing?"

Wes turned, a pained expression on his face. "Kate."

As Blaine climbed out of bed to sit on the edge, he yawned, stretching wildly. "What about Kate?"

"Prom. That's what. She's pissed at me because I forgot to tell her the date and now she has to tell her boss that she can't work the late shift and she said she's, and I quote, disappointed in me."

Blaine chuckled, yawning still. "Ouch."

"Oh that's it Thornton, laugh it up," Wes snapped, still prodding the keys with frustration, "your life's perfect, you're all loved up and giddy and it's all peachy on your side of the fence while I'm over here trying to claw myself back into my girlfriend's good books."

"Just say you're sorry," Blaine tried, eliciting a look of 'are you serious?" from Wes, "and promise her you'll make it up to her."

"Why don't you date her," Wes retorted sharply with a huff.

"Wesley it's eight am and I'm too tired to list the reasons why that is completely out of the question, my friend, so I'm going to leave you to it unless there's something else bothering you."

"There is actually," Wes began, swivelling in his chair to follow Blaine as he walked towards the bathroom, "we haven't talked about song selection for Regionals. They're approaching now and the Board have been in contact regarding set list deadlines. I need to submit them soon so I'm scheduling a meeting tomorrow. We've seen so many contenders this term and we know some of our good group numbers but it's the soloist selections we still need to tie down."

Blaine swallowed hard. "Ok and what do you need to talk to me about specifically?"

"Well, you'll be auditioning won't you?"

"Obviously."

Wes rolled his eyes. "And Kurt will also want to audition too."

"I'd expect so," Blaine smiled.

"Blaine, there's only one solo spot."

It took a few seconds of silence for Blaine's brain to catch up. He felt something tug in his chest making him shuffle uncomfortably. It wasn't an enormous problem but he wished there was a chance they could both perform and both share the spotlight.

"Is anyone else going up for one? Jeff? Nick? Thad?"

"Just you and Kurt I think. Jeff's got soccer to focus on and Nick's still struggling after his throat infection."

"Ok, well I'll let Kurt know. He has a list of solos in his back pocket so I can't imagine he'll have any issues." With that, Wes returned to his freak-out leaving Blaine to shower and get ready to swing by to collect Kurt before classes began.

In thirty minutes, Blaine was dressed fully, hair gelled and blazer buttoned. He grabbed his satchel and ignored Wes' painful whines before closing the door and giggling to himself as he turned down the corridor.

"Just the guy I was looking for."

Blaine shook his head with a smile. He turned around to find Thomas half way down the corridor wearing his signature smirk.

It took Blaine seconds to throw himself into a hug. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Prom stuff," Thomas grinned hugely, "Dad roped me into helping out as I apparently didn't serve the school enough last year what with my role as head of the Prom committee. Jeez."

Blaine was animated. He was thrilled to see his best friend and it was all the better for being unexpected. "I can't believe you're here," he sang happily by Thomas' side as they both began the walk to Kurt's room.

"Well, I thought you'd kiss my sorry ass if I didn't come to visit you first."

"Too right," Blaine smirked.

"I've got some news too," Thomas stuttered out, his eyes wider than usual. Blaine knew that look.

"Who is he?"

The lopsided grin to grace Thomas' face was enough to cause Blaine to nudge his friend's shoulder playfully. "His name's Harry and he's in one of my classes. We met in the library."

Blaine burst into laughter. "You're always complaining about law at Brown being so tough that you spend so much time in the library... and now you've met someone... _in the library_. This is golden."

Thomas swatted Blaine's arm in mock irritation. "Blaine he's amazing."

It was uncharacteristic but the small squeak that escaped Blaine's mouth was enough to warm Thomas' heart. His best friend grinned stupidly.

"Do I get to meet him?" Blaine asked, bouncing on his heels, his eyes sparkling.

"Maybe. If he's free I might ask him to Prom here if he doesn't mind the cliché."

"Tom..." Blaine began but stopped, unsure as to how to finish. He'd watched Thomas struggle with romance for years, never finding someone who truly made him feel the butterflies' one should feel. He'd always thrown himself into sport and his studies, never sparing time to date and when he did, they'd always end badly. He was a catch but remained uncaught.

"Yes I know, you're going to be all _**Blaine**_ and tell me to be careful-"

"No I was going to say that I'm so happy for you."

Thomas' cheeks tinged pink for a second, not going unnoticed by Blaine who cherished the moment as the only time he'd ever witnessed his best friend unhinged. "So, we here to collect the boyfriend?"

"We certainly are," Blaine started, smiling fondly, "and I'll warn you. He's not a morning person."

With a sharp knock on the door, Blaine felt his heart race as it did every morning at this moment. Being away from Kurt for even a night made the meeting once more at 8:30 am, all the more exciting.

"Come in!"

Blaine threw a mock agonized look in Thomas' direction as he pushed open the door. The affection rose in Blaine's chest at the sight that was revealed.

"If Peterson has the nerve to call me out on this essay and tell me I'm still not hitting the level expected of precious Dalton Academy then I swear I won't be responsible for my actions. I'm used to the wrath of Sue Sylvester but his guy's like freakin' Hitler."

Blaine tilted his head in amusement, watching Kurt from behind throwing his supplies and notebooks into his bag, straightening his blazer, preening his hair, filling Pavi's seed...

"Oh."

Kurt gasped dropping the tiny cup of millet on the floor. His eyes spread wide and fingers rushed to push the seed back in as Thomas chuckled beside Blaine.

"I didn't know you were there. What must you think of me?" Kurt asked, positioning his bag over his shoulder and reaching the door with a wide smile in Thomas' direction.

"It's good to see you again Kurt," Thomas said warmly, "and Peterson's a pain in the ass, I will definitely agree with you on that."

Kurt laughed, glancing down in slight embarrassment. Blaine realised they hadn't looked at each other yet. "It's so nice to see you too."

"You ready to go?" Blaine asked, ducking his head to capture Kurt's eyes momentarily. As he did, his heart skipped and skin flushed warm. Kurt's eyes softened with a smile at the sight of Blaine's outstretched hand. Their routine...

"I'm ready." Kurt's fingers slid into Blaine's neatly. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs as they began to walk to class, their shoulder rubbing with every other step. Kurt closed his eyes a fraction and breathed in deeply as Blaine softly stroked a pattern on the back of his hand, squeezing slightly before dropping their hold to descend the staircase. Thomas stepped down first and continued in front of them so Blaine took the opportunity to quickly turn, grabbing Kurt's wrists and pulling him quickly towards him. "Blain-"

The kiss was deep and over far too soon, Kurt's eyes rolling back in their sockets and arms tingling with goose bumps.

"Come on," Blaine said eventually, reaching to straighten Kurt's blazer lapel out of pure habit, "the quicker we get to class, the quicker the hell's over."

* * *

Peterson graced the corner of Kurt's work with a large red B-, much to Kurt's apparent shock. At McKinley it'd have achieved an A+ and probably a box of chocolates for the fact a mild bit of effort was injected into it. At Dalton, it was still '_good effort Kurt, more focus is needed'_ or '_logical ideas and well thought out issues but the structure leaves a lot to be desired'_. Kurt simply wanted to scrunch up his work and ram it down Peterson's throat. He was a miserable so and so with only disdain for his students... he made Mr Schue look like a teaching God. It was for this reason that Kurt found himself happily shut in the first floor kitchen that afternoon with Blaine, escaped from the reality of Dalton schooling.

Kurt couldn't breathe for giggling.

"You're an idiot."

"That's not very nice now is it?" Blaine replied, edging closer, a devilish glint twinkling in his hazel eyes.

"I swear Blaine Thornton, you get any cake mix on my clothes and you'll live to regret it."

"Oh really?"

"Yes really. Now, stop being so cliché and cute and take a step back."

Blaine didn't listen, instead deciding to keep inching forward, a dollop of mixture on his finger.

"You think I'm cute?" he smirked, stepping forward again. Kurt edged back, feeling the counter nearing slowly and knowing there was no escape. His heart was hammering frantically but in the most exquisitely perfect way.

Kurt blushed. "I think you're an idiot. Don't you listen?"

Blaine simply laughed, licking off the mixture and winking in Kurt's direction. "You're no fun."

With a roll of his eyes, Kurt smirked. "You wanted to make cakes so we're making cakes. Nowhere in the agreement was there a mention of chasing me around the room."

Blaine was desperately intent on staring at Kurt's cheeks. They were blushed pink and flawless, shimmering almost. They'd taken a walk after the afternoon class and as the rain had started, soon turning to a downpour, Blaine had chimed up with an idea of how to spend their afternoon – much to Kurt's delight.

"I can't help myself," Blaine cooed, now mere inches away from Kurt, his hands pinning him to the counter. Kurt felt his cheeks redden and skin flush warm as Blaine licked off the cake mix.

"You're such a flirt," Kurt breathed out with much more want in his voice than he intended. His fingers shook as they lifted to land on Blaine's stomach and rested there, feeling the warmth.

"Only because you make the chasing so worthwhile."

Kurt groaned playfully. "Oh god just stop talking. I'm embarrassed for you." With a chuckle, Blaine leaned in close to place a slow kiss on Kurt's lips, only lifting before an intense amount of pressure. Kurt swayed on the spot, his spine tingling and eyes wide. "Do that again."

Blaine obliged, this time pressing his entire body to align with Kurt's, flush and neat. As Kurt gasped, his hands slid naturally up to Blaine's chest before looping themselves around his neck and pulling him close. It was fluid and easy now, free of tension and any panic about holding back. Blaine was his, he was close and easy to trust and, above all, so honest.

As the kiss ended, much too soon for Kurt's liking, Blaine's face suddenly became very serious.

"I need to ask you something."

His eyes sharpened causing Kurt's chest to flood with anxiety. It was a moment he was, regardless of everything, always expecting from anyone- the get out clause. Kurt was not accustomed to the long term, instead choosing to accept the futile nature of relationships in order to protect what had become his own fragile heart.

"Blaine if you're about to say something bad then let me go, let me make a coffee and break it to me gently. It's all I'm asking."

In a second his lips were otherwise occupied once more, this time with a soft tender kiss fused with such affection, Kurt could hardly stand it.

"Who's the idiot now?" Blaine said quietly as he leaned back, shuddering as Kurt's arms slid down to his sides once more. Blaine didn't move, still holding Kurt close and against the counter. "Why would it be anything negative at all?"

"I don't know."

Kurt wriggled free, slipping his hands into oven gloves and turning to inspect Blaine's eyes. He wasn't sure why he'd panicked but was sure of one thing, he regretted the distance now put between them.

"Did you know we had Prom here?"

Kurt stopped in his tracks. "What?"

Blaine walked slowly to stand in front of Kurt again, noticing a spot of flour on his nose. He reached out to dust if off, his eyes twinkling. Kurt bit his lip in anticipation in an attempt to calm his racing heart.

"We do. We may be an all boys school but Principle Masters invites the girls again and any student with a girlfriend... or boyfriend is able to bring them. As Kate couldn't make it to the Snow Ball, Wes is bringing her. David's got a date too. Even Thomas has a new guy in his life who he's hoping to bring."

"Oh," Kurt said quietly, eyes bright and alert. He fumbled with the oven glove and picked at the thread.

It was Blaine could do to not crush Kurt to him as he looked so completely adorable. There was still that unsure underlying layer of fear that bubbled to the surface every now and then; Blaine knew it well as he was sure he wore the same look on his own face at times.

"Kurt, look at me, why have you gone quiet?"

The oven roared beside them providing the only noise in the room, meaning the silence was emphasised dramatically. Kurt took a deep breath and glanced up- his eyes were slightly shiny.

"Just remembering something I said to my dad once, that's all."

Blaine stepped closer, looping the glove from Kurt's tight grip, placing it on the counter. "I'm going to ask you accompany me to Prom, is that ok?" Blaine smirked, sheer delight alive in his features.

Kurt swallowed and nodded gently. "This is happening isn't it?" he asked under his breath.

Blaine stood tall, his fingers tangling with Kurt's and holding on. "Kurt Hummel, will you do me the greatest honour in becoming my date for Prom?"

The tiny shrill giggle to escape Kurt's lips was enough of a response. "This isn't real."

Blaine nodded slowly, drawing Kurt's lips closer with a firm hand wrapped around his neck. "Lets see how real I can make it," he drawled as their lips met, tasting of cake batter and lemon zest. Kurt was sure it was the sweetest kiss of his life.

* * *

The next day, Kurt was tense. He'd spent most of the evening running his song over and over until he knew the lyrics backwards, forwards and possibly even in fluent French. Wes had broken the news of the quick and impending audition the previous day at approximately 10:30pm to which he'd received a pillow in the face courtesy of one Kurt Hummel. Blaine had laughed hysterically.

With a quick call to Mercedes to discuss song choice, Kurt was sure he'd picked a perfect number. It wasn't overly dramatic (and if it was they could suck it), it showed off his voice perfectly and was something unique enough to grab the attention of the council members. Plus, it happened to be sung by his idol – Patti Lupone. There had to be a pronoun switch but it was perfect.

"Ready Kurt?" David asked, appearing in his doorway.

Pavarotti chirped a tune which made Kurt smile. He took it as the little yellow bird's expression of luck.

"Precious bird," Kurt mumbled under his breath, "I'm ready."

As they entered the senior commons, Kurt carrying his tiny boom box, the entire Warbler clan sat scattered around the room in their uniforms. Blaine was across the room in the middle of a conversation with Wes but glanced up, eyes speaking volumes, when Kurt stepped in the door. Kurt waved somewhat coyly before taking an empty seat by the door.

Wes, David and Thad took their seats. "The Warbler council welcomes Blaine Thornton for his audition. You may take the stage."

Kurt always stifled a laugh at the faux pleasantries the Warblers always used. It was strangely addictive to treat everything so seriously but Kurt couldn't help but imagine how the New Directions would react to witnessing such conservatism. They'd laugh in Wes' face, maybe except Rachel. She'd adore it.

Blaine straightened his tie and stood in the centre of the room. Thad pressed play.

The slickest swing music played out, lilting through the air and causing Kurt to breathe in, pressing his lips together in exhilaration. The second Blaine began to sing, Kurt recognised the song immediately. His heart fluttered.

_If they asked me, I could write a book;  
About the way you walk, and whisper;  
And look. _

Blaine's eyes didn't leave Kurt's. Each word was delivered with the most enchanting charm and swagger. Blaine hopped and skipped with the most suave of grins on his face. He winked as he passed Kurt, drawling out the smoothest tones with the added edge of cheekiness.

_I could write a preface;  
On how we met;  
That the world will never forget. _

His hop, skip and jump fell perfectly in time with the music as Blaine skilfully executed it off the small steps down into the room. He shimmied his shoulders in time with the brass instrumental before launching into song once more.

_And the simple;  
Secret of the plot;  
Is just to tell them;  
That I love you, alot.  
Then the world discovers;  
As my book ends;  
How to make two lovers of friends._

As the song ended, the Warblers broke out into animated applause. Jeff high fived an ecstatic Blaine just as Kurt caught his eye. Blaine mouthed the words "_for you_" as he lowered himself into his seat once more.

Kurt was sure he was going to explode from joy but instead, breathed in deeply and filled himself up with it, letting it flood him and threaten to burst out.

"Kurt Hummel, you are invited to take the floor to provide the counter competitive performance."

Squaring his shoulders, Kurt closed his eyes momentarily. He found his centre and felt the music surge through his veins.

_With one look I can break your heart  
With one look I play every part  
I can make your sad heart sing  
With one look you'll know all you need to know_

_With one smile I'm the boy next door  
Or the love that you've hungered for  
When I speak it's with my soul  
I can play any role_

The power of the words ever fused with emotion caused Kurt's voice to pierce the air in the room. Blaine felt his spine tingle so intensely that he shifted in his seat. The perfect pitch and passion in Kurt's voice was so shockingly powerful. He felt his eyes prickle.  
_  
No words can tell the stories my eyes tell  
Watch me when I frown, you can't write that down  
You know I'm right, it's there in black and white  
When I look your way, you'll hear what I say_

_Yes, with one look I put words to shame  
Just one look sets the screen aflame  
Silent music starts to play  
One tear in my eye makes the whole world cry_

Blaine couldn't breathe out. It was breath-taking. The history and experiences Kurt had endured were evident with every note, his passion pouring out at every syllable and his new found strength and sense of self were solid and unwavering with every breath.

_With one look they'll forgive the past  
They'll rejoice I've returned at last  
To my people in the dark  
Still out there in the dark..._

_Silent music starts to play  
With one look you'll know all you need to know  
With one look I'll ignite a blaze  
I'll return to my glory days  
They'll say, "He is back at last!"  
This time I am staying, I'm staying for good  
I'll be back to where I was born to be  
With one look I'll be me!_

The final notes were the last straw. Blaine choked on his own breath. He could barely move, rigid in his chair through the power of the soaring music and the strength of Kurt's voice. He watched as Kurt's shoulders visibly relaxed from their tension, his fingers trembling slightly.

Kurt focused on breathing. He hadn't expected to feel so much, for it to mean so much and tobe expressed with every single part of him. He was shuddering with adrenalin and before he knew it, Blaine was close by.

"Thank you both for your contributions," Wes asserted, sending a flood of confusion through Kurt's mind, "we will adjourn to make your decisions and call you both back to deliver our verdict."

In seconds, Kurt was outside with Blaine's hand warm on his lower back. "Wait a minute, we were the only two auditioning?" he asked quickly, eyes searching Blaine's.

Blaine blinked back, unsure. "I thought Wes had explained to you. Jeff can't provide the time and Nick isn't well enough. Nobody else put themselves forward for a solo."

"You're my only competition?" Kurt gasped, frowning with his mouth agape.

"I honestly thought Wes had told you," Blaine explained, stepping forward to attempt a smile.

"No," Kurt spat, "he hadn't. I really wish he had though because he just let me go in there uninformed."

"Kurt you'd still have auditioned even if you'd known. Of course you would have."

"Yes," he groaned, "but that's not the point. It's you and I."

Blaine sighed. "It'll be fine. You've nailed it. Believe me, I haven't even begun to tell you how beautiful that was Kurt. You almost reduced me to tears. Your voice..." he attempted to eloquently construct a sentence with enough meaning. He failed.

Kurt glanced up under his eyelashes from his place on the seat outside. "Thank you."

Blaine sat by his side, placing his hand over Kurt's warmly. "You were breathtaking. They'd be mad not to choose you."

Kurt laughed wryly. "I tried too hard once more. You were fun, flirty, charming, entertaining and the song was right for an acapella arrangement. I can't see the Warblers channelling their inner Norma Demond and belting out Sunset Boulevard."

Blaine felt the nerves knot inside. Something felt wrong. He reached out for Kurt's hand and squeezed.

At that moment Wes pushed open the door and smiled at Kurt who straightened his back and shoulders, eyes expectant.

"Kurt, although your performance was moving and extremely proficient, I'm afraid we've chosen Blaine as our soloist for Regionals."

* * *

_**Woah. Well, there you go.**_

_**The next Chapter is a direct run on from this and, as you can probably tell, gets a little angsty but it's all fine... you know me by now, you needn't worry : )**_

_**The songs sung in this Chapter are:**_

_**Kurt – "With One Look" from Sunset Boulevard sung by Patti Lupone  
- this song sends shivers down my spine. It's incredible, especially towards the end. As Kurt, in the show, is a big Patti fan and has already belted out Rose's Turn, I've always imagined him singing this song. I think the words are beautiful for him too with a few teeny changes!**_

_**Blaine – "I Could Write A Book" by Harry Connick Jr (amongst others)  
- This song is one I've always listened to and I used instantly BUT when I realised a couple of things, I knew it DEFINITELY had to be used. It's by Rogers and Hart (who Darren used for his audition for Blaine!) and is from When Harry Met Sally. HAHA, how damn SPOOKY is that? I was giddy when I realised.**_

_**I hope you like the song choices. I loved both songs equally and would KILL for Darren to nail a swing song as Blaine, equally Kurt needs to be given a solo or a front and centre moment again. I miss him so much. **_

**_LASTLY... over 1000 reviews. You are all FAR too wonderful to comprehend. Some of the comments I get are just incredibly generous. I am UNBELIEVABLY happy and very appreciative. Thank you so much for your support and feedback. I am so pleased it's meant something to you to even compel you to leave a comment. _**


	34. Learning Curve Part 2

_**Well, seeing as my A/N were nothing short of novel sized last time, I'm keeping this short. Thank you to EVERYONE who has left a comment AND for those lovely people on tumblr – you know who you are. You're all wonderful.**_

_**I REALLY REALLY hope you like this one. I MAY (oh dear) have sobbed a little writing this at the end. It wrote itself pretty quickly so PLEASE let me know if you spot any inconsistencies. **_

_**Please enjoy ...**_

_**

* * *

**_

"I'm never going to get a chance am I?" Kurt huffed out, throwing himself down on his bed. It was unfair. He had serious talent, talent that New Directions knew was going to help them win competitions. Yes, he wasn't utilised as much as he felt he deserved but he was still valued as a very important part of the team – even Rachel Berry had deigned him key to their winning Nationals.

"You will, it'll just take time," Blaine said quietly, wishing he wasn't having to have this conversation. It was strained to say the least.

"Oh and what's time going to do?" Kurt snapped his head around, frowning deeply, "because the way I see it, they just think I'm some diva without substance."

"Kurt..." Blaine pushed, a hint of exasperation in his voice. Kurt was dramatic, Blaine knew this and it was something he found exciting but with that passion and drama came over-reaction and exaggeration of the highest kind.

"Don't 'Kurt' me. I know I can hold a solo, I give a good audition so there must be some reason why they don't want me. I'm not so insecure to think I'm not good enough- I am. I just think they're threatened by me."

Blaine groaned, toeing closed the door and lowering himself onto the desk chair. Kurt wouldn't look at him- it wasn't a good sign. His palms began to sweat.

"They're not threatened Kurt, come on, get real."

He knew it was the wrong thing to say before the words slipped from his mouth but there was no way to claw them back in. He held his breath.

"Get real? Are you serious Blaine because if you are then I have no idea where you've been for the past six months."

"Look, I was just-"

"You were just sticking up for them that's what," Kurt bit back, smoothing his hair pointedly, "and I guess I should have expected it."

Blaine's chest clenched. "Come on that's not fair."

Kurt's eyes were on him, beady and sharp. "What's unfair Blaine is being overlooked regardless of how much effort you put into something."

"It's not the effort Kurt... it's maybe just..." He trailed off, scared to end the sentence.

"What?" Kurt asked, his voice harsh, "what is it I'm doing so wrong?"

Blaine breathed in deeply. "Maybe your style is just something The Warblers can't work with."

Kurt remained silent for a second. His brow furrowed and hands clasped themselves together tightly. "Then maybe I'll leave."

Blaine felt sick. "Kurt you're not leaving, come on, you're part of the team-"

"I don't want to be part of the team every single day and blend into the background with every single performance Blaine. If you saw what we were like in New Directions you'd see what a team is. We gave each other time to shine but here the only person who gets the spotlight is..."

Blaine felt his heart hurt. You. He knew the answer but Kurt didn't say it, he didn't need to. Anger bubbled deep down inside and fuelled his foolish words.

"I didn't realise I hogged your spotlight. I'm so sorry for being chosen. I'm sorry for believing we could actually focus on the right things like healthy competition and forget the petty things like who wins or who gets to parade around at Regionals. Guess I've been looking at things all wrong."

Kurt sucked in a breath. "What's that supposed to mean?" His cheeks were flushed not out of desperation and embarrassment teamed with a hefty surge of anger and irritation.

"Us. I thought we were better than that. Thomas and I managed it last year so I thought-"

Kurt felt it sharp in his chest, the stab of jealousy and petulance. He could barely hold back. "Well if Thomas is so mature and perfect why don't you go ask him to be your god damned boyfriend? I'm sure he'd be more than happy to be your knight in shining armour seeing as I'm so incapable of living up to expectations."

"Kurt-"

"No. It seems he has something I don't and if he can cope with being pushed into the back at every turn then that's great, lets all bow down to his greatness because I'm obviously missing the point."

"Kurt you're overreacting." Blaine could believe it was happening. He felt frantic, his eyes wide and pleading but inside, his stomach burned with frustration. Why wasn't Kurt listening to what he was trying to say?

"Blaine Thornton, don't you tell me I'm overreacting. I'm allowed to be angry," Kurt spat, pushing himself off the bed and striding over to his wardrobe. He yanked off his tie and threw it in. "This school is so hypocritical. You're all about tolerance and embracing difference yet we all parade around in uniforms pretending. I've seen The Warblers strut and dance and I've seen you climb on more furniture than I ever thought possible during a three minute song but oh no, when I get up there and try to impress you all with a talent I know I have... I'm too dramatic. Wes didn't tell you to tone it down when you were out there, front and centre at Sectionals dancing and playing up for the audience."

"Kurt that's not the point. If the song is adaptable for acapella and for a group arrangement then the soloist has free reign and the Warblers love to get into the song and move with the music but they can't do that with a soloist who wants to sing alone."

"Oh I'm greedy, that's it. I'm so very sorry."

"Kurt, you signed up for the Warblers. You knew who we were when you joined and now you're complaining about that fact. I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this."

"Because, Blaine, I've been trying my whole life to find people who'll listen and who'll appreciate-" Kurt couldn't talk any longer. He felt his throat catch and covered his face with his hands.

"Kurt-" Blaine tried, climbing out of his chair to reach Kurt's side. He let his fingers rest lightly on Kurt's shoulder. Without a second's hesitation, Kurt shook him free.

"No. Blaine. I'm angry and you're not listening. I don't need you to comfort me, I'm perfectly fine."

That was the last straw. The rims of Blaine's eyes stung along with the back of his throat as he felt his heart beat in his ears and fingertips.

"You know what Kurt? I'm trying here and you're behaving like a kid. I can't help that I was the one they chose. I'm trying to explain to you the possible reasons why you might have missed out and you're not listening to me."

"I don't want to listen to it, it's pompous and annoying. The whole system is. I may as well go back to McKinley where people actually appreciated me."

"Go then!" Blaine shouted, now incapable of holding back, "if you're so unhappy here then go!"

Kurt's eyes flashed dark. "You know why I can't leave," he hissed, pushing past Blaine and sitting stiffly on the edge of his bed. "I thought I loved this place. Maybe not."

"Well if we're such a let down Kurt then I think you should consider it. You can leave us pompous assholes behind and find your spotlight somewhere else."

"I bet you'd love that," Kurt retorted, causing Blaine to wince.

"If you think that then I don't know what we've been doing these past few months. If you think I want you to leave then you don't know me and we have major problems Kurt."

With a shaky breath, Kurt raked his hands over his face and threw them down on the bed beside him. "I'm angry."

"No shit," Blaine frowned, turning away.

"I'm taking it out on you."

"Big time."

"You're not listening to me though Blaine."

"Ditto."

Kurt felt the tears rise. He knew it was inevitable and knew he'd said so much he simply didn't mean at all. He clenched his shaking fingers and felt his shoulders slump.

"Maybe I'll look into going back."

Blaine choked back tears. He couldn't listen to those words. It'd gone way further than it should have and he'd been unfair, he hadn't listened but Kurt hadn't either and they were both far too angry and blinded by it to see the reality of what they were saying.

"If that's what you want," he stuttered out, unable to look at Kurt through fear of falling apart. The desperation shuddered inside.

"I think you should leave."

Silence reined for a matter of second but Blaine nodded. Distance was a good thing because matters had already gone way beyond what they should have. It was touching upon dangerous ground and neither wanted it to go any further. Without another word, Blaine grabbed his blazer and left the room, closing the door gently behind him.

Kurt didn't move for five minutes straight. His heart was pounding, ears ringing and eyes stinging painfully. The tears didn't come immediately, instead his heart hurt and threatened to beat down his rib cage.

Pavi chirped soulfully and in a way which Kurt was sure echoed the melancholy in the room. It took a matter of seconds for Kurt to pick up the cage and carry it to his bed where he lay down beside it. He watched as the little yellow bird hopped to the closest perch and sat still with a quick ruffle of his feathers.

"I'm an idiot," Kurt choked out. It was then that the tears fell, hot and instant down his cheeks, pooling in dark circles on his expensive sheets. "I'm such an idiot."

It wasn't easy to lie still as his limbs felt cold and empty so the natural reaction was to curl in on himself into the foetal position and tug his knees to his chest. As he did so, Pavi pecked gently at the bars. Kurt responded by reaching out a tear stained finger and poking it through the bars to rest ever so lightly on Pavi's feathers. The little bird flinched a fraction but rested into it. In a while he began to scrape his beak slightly on Kurt's finger. It was then that Kurt choked on his own tears, bringing his hands to his face and pressing both into his pillows. His heart was breaking.

* * *

Blaine barely made it into his room before his legs gave out. He didn't bother to move further into the dorm, instead chose to sit on the floor by the door, his knees drawn up to his chin tightly. He lowered his forehead down to rest and sighed painfully. His hands were still shaking involuntarily from nerves and awful adrenalin. It was a mess and the very first time that Blaine found himself realising how quickly he could lose Kurt. It was that simple in a way, arguments were often the cause of break-ups and relationship failures, they were the catalyst to air underlying problems and if anything was illustrated by the fight they'd just had, it was their ability to say things they truly didn't mean.

He could feel the pain in his chest at every heart beat, pulsing through to his weak fingers and coursing a sickness through his body. He had never even considered how it'd feel to lose Kurt or be without him since they'd met. They'd been firm friends immediately, their relationship turning to close friends then to tentative admirers, then to nervous teenage lovers than now to boyfriends. It was the usual path but it still seems so fragile regardless of their solid foundation. 'Nothing is forever' his father used to say. Blaine felt a single tear tip from his eyelashes at the realisation that his father just might be right.

He needed someone to talk to. Thomas was off the cards. Before he knew what he was doing, Blaine had typed in Sylvie's number and leaned against the wall to steady his shaking body.

"Blaine, darling I'm so happy you called!"

The tears ran warm down his cheek at the sound of her voice.

"Grandmother..." he choked out, unable to even hold it together for a second.

"Sweetheart what is it? Are you crying? Has someone hurt you?"

Her voice was fused with concern but controlled as always- Sylvie wasn't the panicking kind.

"No. I'm not hurt... I just," Blaine stuttered, his voice cracking, "I just needed to talk to somebody because I've made a mess of things."

"Sweetheart, where are you?" she asked soothingly. It felt as if her arms had extended down the phone line and wrapped him up tightly.

"In my room. On the floor."

"Ok darling. Listen to me. Go close the door and sit on your bed. Turn on the lights and get a glass of water. You hear?"

"Yes." He did as he was told and eventually fell onto his bed with a handful of tissues.

"Are you on your bed?"

"Yes."

"Now," she cooed, "tell me what all of these tears are about."

He explained, not avoiding a single detail. He told her all about how he and Kurt were together now and happy, about how they'd spent every day together and had grown to be so close and so good together. He didn't scrimp on any details of the past day or two, ending with the fight they'd just had.

"Blaine darling," she said eventually, sighing on the other end, "I wish I was there with you because I know how it feels. It hurts doesn't it?"

"Mmmm hmmm," he sniffed out, unable to talk without sobbing.

"I know, I know," her voice drifted down the line, warm and comforting, "but I'll tell you a story shall I?"

"Please."

"Your grandfather and I had been dating for a while. I was a bit of a wild child back then and he was the same, we were both full of life. We were very much in love and giddy with it. It was in the middle of Summer when we both went to a rally. I don't even remember the cause but we were both so passionate about it that neither of us cared about the consequences, we ran with our passion. There was a group of us, all as silly as each other but high on life. I wanted the role and signature speaker. I fancied myself a revolutionary and had such high hopes even though my parents did not like it one bit. In those days, ladies were advised to uphold the greatest form of etiquette and decor and I rebelled at any given moment. George and I were both so similar that we campaigned for the same position. I was so prickly about my right to a voice back then and when he got the role I was so angry with him that we argued well into the night and broke up for an evening. With the exception of your grandfather's death, I don't think I've ever cried so much over him. He was my world and the possibility of losing that feeling and that connection... well, it broke my heart."

Blaine swallowed and took a breath. "What did you do?"

She chuckled lightly. "I fell asleep and he came to wake me. He couldn't bear to sleep on an argument. I'd written him a latter and posted it under his door. That was, um, the night your Auntie was conceived," she muffled with another laugh.

That made Blaine smile. He sniffed, wiping roughly at his eyes. "What should I do?"

"Well darling you both have things to say and by the sounds of it, you've always been very honest with each other so my only advice is to face it head on. Wait until emotions have calmed and go to find him."

"I'm frightened," Blaine said quietly, hating the sound of the words, "I'm scared that what he said is true, that he'll leave and that he really does hate it here. I didn't even think that he was unhappy here. Do you think I've made it worse for him and made it hard for him to leave?"

"No sweetheart. Don't think like that. It's easy to, I know, but Kurt cares a great deal for you. I saw that the second I met him and I know you too. Darling you're one of the most caring and open hearted people I know and I am not simply saying that as your grandmother. I'm so proud at who you've grown into and Kurt is lucky to have you in his life. Do you love him?"

Blaine's lip trembled. "If I said yes would you tell me I'm too young to understand what it means?"

"Never. Love doesn't depend on age darling. If you love someone, you love them, it's as simple as that. The way you talk about him has painted a picture for me with such vibrancy and life. You can't do such things about someone you don't love."

"I never thought I'd be so frightened to lose somebody."

"Ahh well, that's the reality of it. You can love with every part of you and place your heart in someone else's hands but the risk of it breaking is always ever present. The trust must be there and I know that you trust him. It's easy to say words you don't mean in the heat of a moment, that's normal, but the test is how you move forward."

"Thank you," Blaine whispered gently, "you're the best."

"Blaine darling, you're wise beyond your years and stronger than you give yourself credit for but everyone needs a sounding board at times. I wish I was there to give you a cuddle, even if they aren't the most grandmotherly hugs one could give. Wipe your eyes, straighten yourself out and go find him."

"I will."

"Send me an email to let me know how it goes. I'm good with all of this technology malarkey now. You'd be proud. If you need me at any time, even during the night, you know exactly where I am my dear."

"I love you," Blaine rushed out, followed by a small sob, tears escaping again. He wanted a cuddle, he wanted one badly but knew that he had to man up and take a deep breath. He could be strong and mature about it all.

With the best will in the world, Blaine attempted to leave the room but fell asleep soon after, curled in a ball in the dark on his bad with a tissue in hand.

It was dark when he woke up. He pushed his hand through his looser hair, groaning as his neck creaked.

"Wes?" There was no answer and a smoothed duvet still visible on the other boy's bed. He was with David, no doubt working on Warblers stuff into the early hours. It didn't take long to change, choosing to wear loose navy lounge pants and a grey sweater. It was beginning to grow cold, even though Spring was in bloom, and Blaine felt himself shiver. He wasn't sleepy anymore, he didn't want to close his eyes again and leave himself alone with his thoughts.

Kurt was worth it. He was everything. Blaine thought back to before he met him and how lonely he'd been. He was comfortable with himself and was happy in himself, however, he hadn't realised the whole other side to life, the side that enables you to share in experiences and allow another to see your soul. It'd been both terrifying and exhilarating for Blaine to be able to actively love someone, something he'd dreamed about doing for so long. He slipped his feet into thick socks and went in search of a warm drink. Every step felt laboured however.

The corridors were dealthy quiet, only the odd sliver of light under a random student's door. Blaine could hear his own breathing and knew that he was still saturated with emotion, even his breathing was awkward. It was the worry that had begun to take over and threatened to plague him. The questions lingered: _what if Kurt leaves? What if he decided I'm not what he wants? What if he has realised he's made a huge mistake?_ The list grew long as Blaine turned the corner into the kitchen. He didn't bother switching on the light, instead reached for the kettle out of habit, nearly dropping it when a flicker of light came from the corner of the room.

He squinted, his eyes still dazed with sleep, and blinked, revealing Kurt perched on the bench with a mug in his hand. He was dressed in pale blue pajama bottoms with a dark navy blue sweater. His eyes were red and hair seemed slept on. Blaine was rigid to the spot, he stood, kettle in hand, and was sure he stopped breathing.

Kurt gasped, his grip tightening around the scolding mug. Blaine looked... sad. His despondency was obvious from the lack of strength in his shoulders and the way his lip curled unhappily. Neither moved, the air growing thick in an instant.

Blaine kept staring. He couldn't process the feelings firing desperately through his body, causing his heart to beat faster and palms to sweat. The need to pull Kurt to him and never let him go was so overpowering that he found himself placing the kettle on the table and walking forward. He watched Kurt place his steaming mug on the bench with shaking fingers. Even through the darkness, Blaine could see tear tracks, shiny and randomly snaking down Kurt's cheeks, some even reaching his neck. It hurt more than he could deal with.

He stopped a metre from Kurt, the nerves taking over. He glanced down at his feet and took a deep breath. His grandmother's words echoes in his mind, wise and experienced. She was right. This was worth fighting for and they had to talk. The prospect of not being together was not an option... that's if Kurt felt the same.

Blaine watched as Kurt's lip trembled. He could bear it. In seconds Kurt's arms were looped around his neck, pulling tight, and his own were wrapped hard around Kurt's waist.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I was an idiot. I'm so sorry Blaine. I didn't mean any of it. I'm just so sorry. I can't believe I said some of those things to you. I'm sorry."

Blaine felt the dampness against his shoulders and then the snug feeling of Kurt's knees trapping him in place against the counter and his legs enveloping him in so that he couldn't escape. Every touch was a little frantic.

Blaine breathed in, memorising the way Kurt smelled, how his scent caused pitter pattering feelings to tingle all over reminding him exactly how good they were together. The position they were in could have been awkward but it wasn't- not at all. They fitted together.

"I'm sorry too. I should have listened. I should have let you tell me how you felt but instead I went on the defensive. I'm so sorry I told you to go. I didn't mean it. I really really didn't mean it," Blaine whispered into Kurt's shoulder where his breath was warm and muffled. "Kurt I don't want you to leave."

"I didn't mean it. I'm not leaving. God no. I was stupid. So stupid. I promise I'm not leaving." Kurt's voice wavered, shaking as he spoke and prompting his arms to clasp Blaine harder. He could barely breathe but it didn't matter. The warmth flooded his heart and caused tears to escape his own eyes, hot against Kurt's neck.

"I love you," he murmured faintly, masked with tears, "do you know that?"

"Of course I do. I do."

"I want you to be happy here," Blaine sighed, "I don't want you to think we're pompous assholes. I want you to want to be here and not feel forced into it."

"Blaine, I am. I love it here," Kurt breathed, "yes, there are elements I don't like but nowhere is perfect. Kids don't throw you into lockers here. They don't toss you into dumpsters. You're here. I'm safe here. Nowhere is perfect and I told you I was a bitch sometimes. I told you and warned you and you said we'd be ok."

Blaine kissed Kurt's jaw, sliding his arms free and looking into Kurt's eyes. They were wet and widened with emotion. "We're ok, right?"

Kurt nodded quickly, fresh tears falling. "I hope so. I need us to be ok. I don't want to feel like that again. That was so stupid."

"Yea," Blaine sighed, closing his eyes as Kurt's head tipped to fall onto his shoulder, "we can't let that happen again, ok?"

"No, it can't."

"We talk and if we argue... we argue but we never do that. We never say those things to each other. We're better than that. I never want you to think that I don't want you more than anything because I do. I can barely believe how much sometimes."

"I love you. I never thought I'd be able to say that to anyone. I never thought anyone would say it to me. I love saying it."

Kurt pressed a small kiss to Blaine's cheek, his hands knotted in his hair, holding on.

"We need to talk about everything. Do you want to sleep first?"

"No," Kurt said sharply, tightening his grip in Blaine's hair, his other arm wrapping quickly around Blaine's neck, "No. I want to stay with you. Can I stay with you tonight?"

Blaine leaned back, a small smile on his lips. "You don't even need to ask."

"We can talk for as long as you want. I'll bore you to sleep. I want to tell you everything and explain everything. I feel so stupid."

Blaine's fingers acted naturally, reaching out to wipe away a stray tear from Kurt's cheek. "We were both idiots but it's our first fight. I'm not going to lie and say it didn't scare the hell out of me. It did."

Kurt's breathing hitched. "I cried for hours. I thought you'd hate me for what I said about Thomas and your performances."

"Ok," Blaine sighed, "let's go." He took hold of Kurt's hips and helped him down off the counter. As Blaine turned to walk, he felt a hand clasp hold of his own and spin him around. Kurt's eyes were shining in the dark. Blaine was sure he could see his soul. Without warning, Kurt kissed him, his hands clinging onto his shoulders hard following his persistent lips. Blaine was sure there'd be bruises there in the morning but it didn't matter, it felt right to pour every single ounce of passion into making everything ok again. They were worth it.

* * *

**_Now, where are those tissues?_**

**_I honestly hope this wasn't too melodramatic. I channeled my inner tortured teenager... ;)_**


	35. Try It On

**_Helloha! Firstly, again, I have to apologise for the LONG wait for this chapter. My workload seems to double and triple every single day and as much as I'd love to write bucket loads and have a shed load of ideas, I just have no time! I've been off around the country doing all sorts so I'm so happy to be able to be posting this now! :)_**

**_I've had a LOT of people asking for my tumblr links: they're in my profile now if you want them..._**

**_THANK YOU SO VERY VERY much for the continued comments. Gosh, honestly, the ones I've received recently are SO unbearably sweet. I can hardly get over it and all I can say is, I'm so HAPPY you like TLT and that it makes you smile... that's DEFINITELY the intention. Thank you, as always, and for those who are reccing in and sending it to others - you're all kinds fo awesome, in the words of drunk Rachel Berry._**

**_Oh and that, Blane (Blaine) it on the Alcohol... bloody amazing. HA! I'm one of THOSE people who completely adored the pint sized hobbit love fest of epic sing song faces and over exaggerated dancing. It was impossibly ridiculous. Drunk!Blaine is possibly the CUTEST and is blatently sober!Darren. Oh dear. I also ADORED their argument. Yes, Kurt said stupid things but so did Blaine and neither is perfect. Kurt's spikey and impulsive with his actions/words ANYWAY so I don't know why people expected anything ELSE... it's what we love about him! Well, I do! They're both lost and finding their feet but the BEST thing is that it's with EACH OTHER. I know people had very mixed responses to BIOTA but I loved it... think I could watch sleepy!Blaine on repeat forever. Cutie pie._**

**_Anyway, a MASSIVE thank you and stupid amount of hugs goes to Courtney/court4short who sent me THE cutest Dalton bag. It's AMAZING. I have to say a huge thank you and say that this chapter is, I hope, a little thank you but won't go the whole way to say how grateful I am for your adorable card and message. _**

**_I LOVED, and I mean, LOVED writing this one. By the end I was a swooning mess myself. I tried to channel my inner teen again and I HOPE, once again, that it hasn't hit the coundary of cheesy/melodramatic. I fell so completely crazy for these two writing this... *sigh*_**

**_It's only week until we get Sexy (BURT BURT BURT... I'll not mention spoilers but for those who KNOw what is going to happen, I am STUPIDLY excited, eek!) and Original Song is not far away too. Both have SO much in them that I simply CANNOT wait for so, until then, I REALLY hope you like this Chapter. I'm sure you can guess a few things involved in the next Chapter... :) _**

**_PS: For those who saw the photos of tired/scruffy/but forever beautiful Darren at the OScars Viewing party ... I couldn't help but include that gorgeous swoonworthy vintage 3 piece suit in this story. Shareitwithme will appreciate it hopefully! Also, let also get out how completely BEAUTIFUL OF ANGEL-LIKE PROPORTIONS Chris looked at Elton's shindig... jesus lord, he's one very very pretty guy._**

* * *

Blaine eased open his door.

"Where have you been?" Wes asked before Blaine even had the chance to glance into the room properly.

Kurt swallowed, wiping his eyes quickly before stepping into the room too. Wes could feel the atmosphere change in a swift moment.

"Oh erm," he mumbled, scrambling to collect his papers together off the bed, "I'll erm... just..."

Blaine's eyes were resigned to his shoes but, as Wes passed, he was sure to flash a grateful smile. Wes nodded back.

Once alone, Kurt sighed as the door closed behind them. He reached for Blaine's hand, holding tight and refusing to put space between them for even a second.

"I didn't mean what I said about Thomas."

Blaine breathed in deeply, watching Kurt's eyes. It was funny how quick he was able to read easily into Kurt's expressions. "Come and sit," Blaine directed. The bed dipped as Kurt climbed to rest beside Blaine. Neither moved any further, instead they sat side by side, their hands just touching lightly. "I know you didn't mean it but you can't pull that on me Kurt."

"I know," Kurt breathed, his knees suddenly fascinating, "I don't know why I said it. I really like Thomas and I love what he is to you. He's important to you."

"He is."

"I am so sorry for throwing that in your face. It wasn't fair."

Blaine shuffled to face Kurt, his legs crossing easily. Wes had left his lamp switched on and Blaine couldn't help but map the glistening tracks on Kurt's cheeks, the way they snaked down his skin and fell below his chin. The tug at his heart was difficult to mask. "It wasn't but I wasn't exactly fair either. He's my friend Kurt, nothing else and definitely nothing more. That's all."

Kurt swallowed thickly. "I know. I know all of this... I don't know why I said what I did." His forehead crinkled roughly causing his pale skin to rumple uncomfortably. Blaine watched as his eyelids fell heavily.

"I used to perform to forget. Still do I guess."

Kurt blinked up, shocked at the change in topic and the way that, as his eyes met Blaine's, they shone with clarity. The cascade of memories fluttered Kurt's brain in rapid succession. He thought of singing and letting his tears fall as his dad lay in hospital, he thought of raging on stage to 'Rose's Turn' and throwing every ounce of frustration and energy into every syllable and he thought lastly to Defying Gravity. They were so much more alike than he had realised to date.

"I sing to express myself, to express everything so I don't-"

"Have to say it?" Blaine's lip quirked slightly.

The laugh that fell from Kurt's lips was natural and soft. He smiled, his eyes gliding to meet Blaine's again. "Know it all," he quipped with a tiny smirk. It was easier for a second as if nothing had ever been wrong between them.

"No," Blaine smiled, "I just get it."

Kurt sighed awkwardly. "I love watching you perform. I can hardly take my eyes off you. I never meant to undermine that. You're wonderful on stage."

Blaine nodded. The way Kurt's fingers tugged at the cotton of his sheets was distracting; he wanted Kurt's hands in his, for _his_ hand and fingers to be the source of comfort. Before he spoke, Blaine looped his grip around Kurt's hands, drawing them up to rest on his lap.

"I want you to have a solo. Your voice is beautiful but you're mesmerising, breath-taking and every single note is like crystal. No acapella group can match that. What I was trying to explain to you is that you're so outstanding and your light shines so much brighter than everyone else... it can't be dampened, can't be toned down because... that's just not you."

"I like to be theatrical," Kurt laughed slightly, shuffling forward.

Blaine grinned warmly. "You don't say."

"Look," Kurt began, sitting up straight, his eyes sparkling, "I am not one to admit when I'm wrong. If you hadn't noticed, I'm kind of stubborn," Blaine chuckled fondly, "but I was wrong. Very wrong."

"I'm going to go soppy on you for a second," Blaine explained, tightening his grip on Kurt's hand, "is that ok?"

"As if I can stop you," Kurt smiled, his eyes glistening once more. They were tears of relief and gratitude.

"You mean so much more to me than a stupid performance."

Kurt felt his breath catch in his throat. He felt his lips quiver. "Same here."

In a second it was over. There was no need to say anything further, no need to rehash the unfortunate events of that afternoon and go over and over every single accusation. The simple admission of priority was enough to calm Kurt's heart and provide Blaine with a wealth of confidence in their ability to make it through anything anyone placed in front of them.

"I've got a proposition," Blaine stated after what felt like the biggest intake of breath he'd ever taken. He slid his hands from Kurt's and climbed off the bed clumsily. Kurt's eyes widened, his neck straightening and tilting his head to the side in what Blaine cherished as his trademark posture.

"And what would that be?"

"We forget about this stupid day."

"Done."

Blaine grinned, the smile reaching his eyes and lighting them happily. "That we go somewhere tomorrow, just me and you as it's Saturday-"

"Shopping?" Kurt all but squeaked out, his hands pressing together in front of his chest hopefully. There was no mistaking the frantic excitement in his eyes.

"Shopping," Blaine agreed, nodding slowly. His ability to stay upright was tested as Kurt launched himself off the bed and threw his arms around his neck, somehow managing to make it look graceful and choreographed.

As Kurt's arms looped tight, Blaine felt the buzz of enthusiasm in the way Kurt bounced on his feet, his shoulders swaying and almost dancing. In a second, the embrace relaxed somewhat. Blaine closed his eyes and allowed his chin to rest on Kurt's shoulder comfortably as he felt eyelashes tickle the back of his neck. It was miraculous how easy it was.

"I've wanted to dress you for months. I have a mental list of so many pieces that I know would flatter your frame and make you look amazing-" Blaine coughed pointedly at the brink of laughing.

Kurt giggled. "I mean, not that you aren't dreamy already but I have skills, Blaine, and I've always wanted someone to dress up."

Blaine pulled out from the hug laughing, reaching for Kurt's flapping hands and holding them still between them. "So I'm your mannequin now, am I? Wow."

"You are going to look spectacular," Kurt gushed, "think Tom Ford meets Marlon Brando with exception given to the fact that your hair has a life of its own. I mean, Colin Firth and Orlando Bloom have rocked the ruffled look for years and well, they're dreamy too. They don't have your bone structure though," he mused, tracing Blaine's jaw with his finger, feeling Blaine curl into the touch, "so you've got one up on them before you've even started."

Blaine blinked rapidly, nodding to keep up. His face flickered with amusement as he took in the manic expression on Kurt's face. "Breathe Kurt," he urged, sliding the other boy's hand from his face and placing it by his side with a smile.

"I really like the idea of spending a day with you in my favourite place."

The comfort of the words shrouded Blaine in warmth. "Ditto," he sighed, "even despite the fact I'm going to spend the day being manhandled."

Kurt spat out a laugh. "Shut up," he hissed playfully, "you'll love every second."

"Oh really? Why's that?"

Kurt took in Blaine's long eyelashes, his deep eyes and the way his lip was currently trapped between his teeth in the cutest and sexiest biting motion. Blaine was a masterpiece and one who was willing to put up with his insanity.

"Because I get very handsy when I dress people."

In a second, Kurt was pinned to the bed giggling. Blaine pressed feverish kisses down his neck, along his collarbone and then back up to meet with Kurt's lips, all the while grasping to keep Kurt's squirming limbs under control. Kurt giggled and gasped for breath but as his lips were captured in a messy kiss, he sighed heavily, his shoulders falling back against the duvet in one fell swoop.

"I think I just fell in love with you," he breathed out between kisses with a blessed out smile as Blaine's lips teased at his jaw. It felt like heaven being trapped under the comforting weight and Kurt knew he was making noises in reaction to each touch but didn't care. He held tight to Blaine's hips and let himself succumb to anything Blaine wished to do.

"You're so behind," Blaine drawled, stopping mid kiss to look into Kurt's eyes. They dazzled in realisation before sliding closed at the touch of Blaine's fingertips tickling up and under the layers of his sweater.

* * *

They'd taken Blaine's car to the mall, Kurt in the passenger seat drumming his fingers excitedly on the window and Blaine sighing happily in the driver's seat as they meandered the roads comfortably. As they pulled into the parking lot, Blaine watched as Kurt busied himself with his bag, laughing to himself as he recognised his inability to resist sneaking a glance at Kurt when he had no idea he was being watched. Kurt had opted for full-on-fabulous, something Blaine wasn't too surprised at, and had chosen a pillar box red knee length flared coat with dark navy skinny jeans and a pair of stylish black boots. His hair was his trademark coiffed affair, perfect and unmentionably soft looking, skimming a very shimmery and somewhat distracting black scarf.

"So mon ami, where do you want to begin?" he asked, smiling fondly as he reached out to nudge Kurt's elbow.

"How about coffee?" Kurt replied, eyes shining, "or else I fear you won't last the day."

Blaine kept his eyes on Kurt as they exited the car. Something had changed between them since their argument making their touches, looks and spoken words seem that much more poignant but so very natural. The residual nerves and tentative feelings were entirely gone now.

As they walked through the parking lot, Kurt smiled, feeling Blaine's shoulder aligned with his and touching every other step. He felt empowered, not only because they'd survived a stupid nonsensical disagreement but because they were going to spend the whole day together and nobody was going to be able to stop him enjoying every single second. In a heartbeat, he allowed his hand to reach out slightly, his fingers grazing Blaine's before slowly folding themselves in.

Nobody seemed to notice. Blaine felt eyes on him but didn't look into them, instead he squeezed his hand back with a smile and kept on walking, noticing that Kurt skipped a little and nuzzled to his side.

"Oh it's going to be like that is it?" he joked, pressing his shoulder back into Kurt's. That sought to only elicit a swat to his shoulder which was cute and definitely not unwanted.

"I'm in a good mood," Kurt snapped playfully, "so sue me."

They pushed the doors to Starbucks, Blaine breathing in deeply and relishing in the heat and overpowering smell- it was the scent of champions. When he opened his eyes, Kurt was laughing.

"Look at you, you're like an addict getting a hit."

"Shush you," Blaine complained, biting his lip.

As they neared the front of the queue, Kurt couldn't stand to keep his hands away from Blaine even for a second. The feeling of connection was addictive, grounding him and quickening his heart in succession. The blissful wash of that heady feeling of affection and heat, desire and fondness was overwhelming and too good to let go of even for a second. He glanced sideways, seeing Blaine through a stranger's eyes and felt his heart swell.

He knew he was beautiful – that was a given – and he was well aware that Blaine was inherently handsome to his core but it was the array of miniature details that only closeness and time to look could provide. His eyelashes- Kurt was sure he had never seen softer eyelashes in his life, so dark and splayed out perfectly. The dimple in his cheek when he smiled so manly but adorably childish all at once- Kurt took a breath and smiled just as the barista asked for their order.

"One medium drip, one non-fat decafe mocha with extra whip, a chocolate biscotti and a packet of caramel wafers, please," Kurt explained slowly, his face serious. Blaine and coffee was serious business after all.

"Extra whip?" Blaine asked, sliding money into Kurt's palm with a grin.

"I told you," Kurt explained, his eyebrows raised as he slid the money back into Blaine's pocket, "I'm in a good mood."

"I want to kiss you right now."

Blaine shocked himself. He had no idea where the words had come from, or he did but didn't realise he was saying them out loud. Kurt was glowing, eyes sharp and every movement animated in the best possible way; he looked fantastic, the kind of picture of fashionable fierceness that only the very artistic could pull off and he was turning heads at every step. Blaine didn't care if it was because they were very blatantly affectionate today or if it was because Kurt looked so stunning.

"It's only because I bought you a coffee Blaine," Kurt quipped, letting his tongue tough his top teeth in a flirty smile, "let's not get ahead of ourselves. Starbucks isn't quite ready for a big gay love fest."

"Screw Starbucks," Blaine whined, tugging on Kurt's scarf tails. The look of spiky amusement and tenderness that he received in return told him enough – Kurt would make good later.

As they walked through the mall, Kurt found himself rolling his eyes. Blaine clung to his coffee like a lifeline, the cuffs of his dark jacket skimming the cardboard as he enveloped his hands tighter with every sip. He'd lick his lips after every drink, rubbing them together gently after wards. Kurt shuddered, mentally bitch slapping himself for being so... hormonal.

"I'm jealous of a Styrofoam cup," he groaned, his eyes avoiding Blaine's so as not to cause himself to flush more than he already was.

Blaine couldn't stop the grin. It was impossible to hold back so instead of exercising some restraint, he glanced around quickly, noting that nobody was particularly close-by or paying attention and tugged Kurt to him, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

Kurt gasped in response, his shoulders stiffening and hands pushing slightly on Blaine's chest.

"We can't-"

Blaine leaned back, eyes surveying Kurt's crinkled brow and piercing eyes. "I don't care," Blaine stated firmly as he let his hand travel down from Kurt's shoulders to squeeze his hand.

"I do," Kurt urged, pushing Blaine's hand back a little, his face filled with regret, "this coat cost me four months worth of allowance and I'd rather not have it ripped or blood stained thank you very much."

Kurt's words were teasing but tinged with sadness. Blaine frowned. "I forget sometimes."

He didn't need to explain further, knowing that Kurt would more than understand. "I know," Kurt soothed, straightening the slight crinkle in Blaine's coat lapel, reminiscent of the many times he'd been the recipient of such preening, "let's go shop and maybe there'll be a fitting room free..."

Kurt winked unsure whether he was more excited at the prospect of shopping or making out. With a final sip of his coffee, Blaine shook his head, attempting to push the multitude of images cycling through his brain- most involving his lips in contact with varying points on Kurt's body- and followed obediently.

Inside a particularly formal looking store, Blaine began to realise the magnitude of Kurt's skills and obsession. They'd discarded their coffee cups and now Kurt's hands were filled with handfuls of suit sleeves and ties as he passed the stacked rails.

"_Oh Blaine_," he cooed, not even looking in Blaine's direction but swooning visibly at the many racks of jackets.

"Can't I just wear the suit I wore to the Snow Ball?" Blaine asked with a tone completely serious. Kurt whipped his head in an instant, barely able to process what he'd heard.

"_Blaine_..." he began, slowly, as if talking to a three year old, "this is prom. This is one of the most important events of the year and of a high schooler's calendar. This is a chance to dress the best you've ever dressed. Plus, you're my date and well," he pursed his lips, "we have to look good."

"Kurt, you could wear a garbage bag and still pull it off," Blaine mused, half smiling, "whereas I... can't."

Kurt fell silent for a second, mind obviously racing but words unable to form. When he finally went to speak, he stepped forward, dropping the coat tails he'd been clinging to, and slid his fingers into Blaine's hands.

"Blaine Anderson," he drawled, smooth and laced with affection, "first of all, if I may be so bold as to declare myself somewhat of a men's fashion expert, you will never have any trouble finding the best cut, best style and most beautiful clothes you could ever wish for and second of all, you happen to be," he swallowed, his cheeks a little pink, "particularly gorgeous so your worries are unfounded."

Kurt squeezed their hands and offered a warm smile before turning to half skip up the aisle. It took Blaine a few seconds to follow, his heart pounding out of sheer happiness; it wasn't every day he was called gorgeous by a boy with looks akin to an angel. Kurt's eyes were sparkling- it was more than enough of an incentive to follow him and obey his every word.

"Blaine, what about this?" Kurt called, dangling a shiny black fitted jacket in one hand alongside a slim black waistcoat in the very same material, "it's almost Armani standard and you don't have the designer price tag. It's beautiful."

After thirty minutes of nodding, smiling, shrugging, posing and general good behaviour, Blaine found himself in the fitting room in only his boxers and a pile of possible suits to try on. He could hear Kurt tapping on his phone outside of the curtain and knew he had all of the time in the world because no way was Kurt going to become tired. He was a shopping machine.

"You done yet?" Kurt asked. Blaine jumped.

"Um," he rushed out, realising he'd been entirely lost in his own thoughts.

Kurt sighed, pocketing his phone with a smile. It was becoming distinctly obvious that Blaine needed direction and he knew, of all people, he was more than capable. He felt his stomach tighten delightfully at being able to shop with someone and share such moments with another. It was so simple and mundane to many but Kurt couldn't quite keep the smile far from his lips.

He teased the curtain back and peeked his head in.

"Kurt!" Blaine all but jumped, his hands on the buttons of a white dress shirt. Kurt swallowed, his eyes growing wider as he realised that that particular shirt was the only other item of clothing besides his underwear that Blaine was actually wearing. His mind, tumbling with potential one-liners to defuse the tension, betrayed him.

All he managed was a hard swallow and a squeaky "Hi."

Blaine was sure he'd turned a nice shade of cerise but still managed a grin. Kurt's expression was beyond adorable; his eyes had grown enormous and expectant but were fixed resolutely in one place, his cheeks were speckled with the cutest blush which crept up from his scarf. He looked perfect and Blaine barely remembered he was standing half naked. He had to defuse the tension.

"Come in," he said simply, motioning for Kurt to close the curtain. Kurt obeyed stiffly, his skin on fire and hands slotted purposefully in his pockets.

"You're buttoning it wrong," he stuttered out, half strangled and half whispered. He could feel his hands aching to reach out to help Blaine but it was one of those moments, one where the air disappears and breathing simply isn't an option anymore.

Blaine smirked, biting his lip. He ducked his head as he dropped the buttons. "Are you freaking out?"

Kurt let out a wry laugh. "No," he replied indignantly, suddenly pulling his hands from his pockets and beginning to tentatively button up Blaine's shirt stubbornly, "I'm fine."

"Because you're kind of blushing," Blaine teased, knowing he had to say something to break the tension. They hadn't quite crossed that line where nakedness was an option.

"Shut up Blaine," Kurt snapped, flushing pinker. The buttons were simple to fasten but Kurt's fingers fumbled a little, missing the hole and causing a rush of frustration. "Ok," he huffed, letting go and stepping back, "it's not every day you get to be in a confined space with a half naked boy, ok?"

Blaine was sure his heart would explode at the sheer petulance on Kurt's face and the way his bright eyes had glazed over and now found it incredibly difficult to look him in the eye. It didn't take Blaine long to tug on the trousers and button the shirt causing Kurt to relax more.

"Show me how to do the shirt," Blaine asked, knowing fine well if there was anything he was skilled at in the fashion department, it was formal wear, but Kurt was half removed from the moment and it wasn't right.

The tiny smile Kurt made was enough to realise he'd done the right thing. "It fits well," Kurt said quietly, smoothing the collar, "it's like you were born to wear this kind of thing."

Blaine felt himself shiver. Kurt was meticulous, precise and was a preener; he was fussing with every inch of the shirt, tucking it in, dusting it off and generally being as handsy as he'd warned. Blaine couldn't stop staring at the way Kurt was concentrating, his lips pouting thoughtfully, head tilting in study and best of all, the way he bit his lip upon inspection. It was hypnotising.

"What?" Kurt asked suddenly breaking Blaine's daydream.

"Nothing," Blaine replied, shaking his head with a smirk, "just you."

Kurt let his hands slide down Blaine's chest, tugging the lapels of the jackets taut. The focus of Blaine's gaze was causing his stomach to curl and skin to tingle so he focused on the task at hand, keeping his eyes at a safe level as any contact with Blaine's was a little too overwhelming to cope with.

"You're done," Kurt mumbled, nerves bubbling under the surface suddenly. It was a truth acknowledged that Kurt adored the spotlight but with Blaine it was different; the gaze was intense and unwavering in a way that sent the most breathtaking jolts of something wonderful up Kurt's spine.

Blaine turned to face the mirror, Kurt by his side with his hands on his hips.

"Wow," Blaine breathed, quite unable to grasp what he saw, "you really do know what you're doing."

Kurt scoffed. "Never underestimate my knowledge of fashion Blaine, let this be a lesson to you." As he spoke, he couldn't help but smile- Blaine looked wonderful. If truth be told, he looked perfect. "See," Kurt gestured to Blaine's waist, "it's fitted just the right amount but the waist coat skims your frame so it draws you in and it makes the suit look tailored precisely and much more expensive. The trousers are slim and straight leg which is much more flattering on your frame as you're," Kurt swallowed a wry smile, "shorter than most guys."

"Thanks for reminding me," Blaine chuckled.

"Telling it how it is and anyway, it looks amazing. What do you think?"

Blaine kept looking. Kurt had removed his coat and was stood close beside him in dark jeans that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, boots that were tight and of one of Kurt's usual styles – bondage wear – which, in itself, was enough to cause a little heat under his collar. The most distracting of aspects was Kurt's slim fitting red and blue checked shirt, buttoned high and teamed with a snug cardigan. The buttons were mock diamonds. Blaine smiled, his eyes fond and shoulders shrugging slightly. "We look good together."

Kurt's little burst of happiness was a thing of beauty. He smiled, bouncing on his heels and clasping his hands together. "So you like it?"

Blaine shook his head. "Come here," he said simply, pulling at Kurt's hip and tugging him to his side. He was in the best position to rest his head on Kurt's shoulder so he did, drawing himself closer at the same time. He felt Kurt's reaction instantly, the slight wriggle into the touch and the same jolt of shock that Blaine had grown used to eliciting.

The four mirrors cast their reflections in every single direction. Kurt wasn't sure what did it but there was a moment of sheer happiness that soared through his body concentrating at his heart where it bloomed quickly. He looked down, suddenly unable to look back at Blaine.

"What is it?"

Kurt smiled slightly. "Still having a few difficulties with accepting that this is my life now."

Blaine nudged his head closer to Kurt's ear. "Get used to it."

Those words. Kurt took a long slow breath and looked back into the mirror. Blaine's smile was genuine and of the most charming variety, his arms were wrapped tight and his hair fell slightly onto his forehead. "Thank you for putting up with all of this."

The low, almost gravelly laugh in Kurt's ear was nothing short of gorgeous. "That's what boyfriends are for," Blaine replied, matter-of-factly.

Kurt froze. The words repeated themselves over and over in his head, growing louder and clearer every time. _Boyfriend... Boyfriend... Boyfriend..._

"Boyfriend..." he whispered, completely unaware that he'd even said the word out loud. A solid blanket of warmth encircled his entire body as Blaine laughed, squeezing his waist slightly.

It hit him then. They hadn't said that word yet, not really. Blaine had said it to others, he'd used it to describe Kurt to Thomas and Sylvie and Wes but they hadn't said it to each other and it was a moment so defining that the world seemed to disappear around them.

"We haven't said it yet have we?" he asked, sliding his hands from Kurt's waist and turning him around so they were facing.

Kurt bit his lip, eyes large and expectant. "No."

"It ok?"

Kurt couldn't help but laugh, shuddery and in shock. "Blaine, I've waited my entire life to find someone who actually wanted to call me that so, no, I don't mind one bit."

"Good."

They fell silent for a second, just looking at each other. Kurt glanced away then flicked his eyes back up, under his eyelashes with a coy smile.

"I think I'm a little addicted to you doing that," Blaine admitted, acutely aware of how shy he suddenly felt admitting something so stupid.

"What?"

"Your eyelashes," Blaine chuckled breathlessly, "when you look at me through them."

Kurt blushed. "Like this?" he asked, bending his head and fluttering his lashes seductively.

"Tease," Blaine whined, batting him away and turning to look in his bag.

"What are you doing?"

Blaine pursed his lips playfully and turned, holding his phone. "We don't have a single photograph of us together, you know?"

"Urgh," Kurt groaned, turning away from Blaine and hiding his face, "don't you dare point that in my face."

"You're kidding me, right?"

Kurt choked out a laugh. "Not at all _David Bailey_, I hate having my photograph taken. Someone once told me I looked like a twelve year old milk maid and yes, I might be able to rock cutting edge looks but the camera definitely does not work for me."

Blaine sighed. "Oh ok," he stated, his hands reaching to attempt to unbutton the blazer, "well, I'll just return this dinner suit shall I?"

"No!" Kurt spat, "no don't you dare."

Blaine laughed and swivelled on the heels of his feet. "Take a photograph with me then."

"I hate you," Kurt groaned, his forehead wrinkling.

"Come here," Blaine urged, reaching out to pull Kurt's cardigan towards him. The grouchy side to him had caused the distance between them to double.

"Hey hey cashmere," Kurt huffed, swatting Blaine's hands away, "and this is the only one you're taking. I want you to know that this is a very distinct form of torture for me."

"Noted," Blaine dismissed with a huge grin, slipping his right arm around Kurt's waist feeling the ever present shiver resulting from being touched, "now smile."

Kurt could feel the strength of Blaine's arm along the small of his back, holding tight. It was so warm and solid in the moment that the second Blaine extended his arm to position the camera and pressed their temples together, Kurt felt every ounce of will power drain from him. He sighed and nuzzled his head sideways to meet Blaine's and with a small sideways grin, the photo was taken. Blaine drew the camera close and clicked a button.

"Is it awful?" Kurt asked, wrinkling his nose.

"It's perfect," Blaine smiled right up to his eyes before dropping his phone into his bag and turning with outstretched arms looking the picture of a three year old child.

"Yes?"

"I need help with taking off this suit because yours are trained hands, mine are not." Blaine winked.

The tension low in Kurt's stomach intensified again. He could feel his hands twitch to obey so he didn't deny them, instead choosing to breathe deeply and step as close as physically possible, letting his hands linger much longer than they should upon each and every button. If Blaine wanted to play dirty...

Blaine could smell Kurt's scent, intoxicating and heady to every sense. Like a cloud, it surrounded him sending him drowsy. He watched Kurt's fingers, lithe and skilled, slip every button from its hole then once each was released, he followed the trail of Kurt's fingers under the lapels and up to his shoulders where they fell flat and slid the jacket slowly off. In the small space, Blaine could hear and feel Kurt's breath, could sense his heart beat in his fingertips and couldn't help leaning into the touch to feel more.

As the waistcoat fell from his shoulders, Blaine could feel the heat from Kurt's hands through the starched cotton. It was then that Kurt, with only a slight added height, ducked his head and glanced under his eye lashes again. Blaine groaned, unable to hold back any longer, and leaned to press his lips to Kurt's without a second's notice.

Kurt let out the tiniest of noises in response, going rigid for a second until Blaine's hand smoothed the skin at his jaw and slid to tuck under his ear. It sent Kurt spiralling, the sensation of being pulled close, being held in place and just... kissed. As Blaine's lips lifted free gently, Kurt was well aware he let out a noise of frustration and although his eyes had fallen closed and remained that way, he could sense the smile in Blaine's lips as they kissed him again, teasing slowly as hands found their way to Kurt's waist pressing him backwards. In a haphazard and completely awkward manner, Kurt found himself stumbling back to meet the wall of the cubicle just as he felt Blaine's tongue slide across his lips. It was too much, too nice, too scary, too overwhelming and without a doubt too delicious. There wasn't a doubt in the world that Blaine was a coffee addict and it was going to become a problem if he kept up his habit but Kurt swooned into the kiss at the mere taste of it.

"Never going... to... get..." Blaine stuttered out between kisses, his lips dotting up Kurt's cheeks and back down in a sporadic pattern, "used... to this. Ever."

Precious was the only word that sprung to mind. As Blaine's hips met his, causing his skin to flood with heat, Kurt felt something akin to heaven or whatever people had been singing about since time began. It all made so much sense. He had a beautiful boy saying wonderful things, completely smothering him in the hottest and sweetest kisses imaginable and he felt utterly precious.

"_Blaine_," Kurt breathed, shocking himself at the level of want in his voice, "we're in a fitting room." The last thing in the world Kurt wanted was to exit into the store having to carry his shopping bag in front of him to hide the embarrassing evidence of a somewhat impromptu make out session and it was heading rapidly in the direction where that was pretty inevitable.

"Mhhhh hmmmpf," Blaine mumbled against Kurt's skin.

"Ok," Kurt forced regrettably, "Blaine Anderson control yourself."

Blaine laughed, still peppering kisses down onto Kurt's neck happily. "You taste nice."

Kurt threw his hands up in despair, his skin on fire and white hot with electricity. "Please, Blaine. We're in public." How he was finding the resolve to speak never mind urge Blaine to stop was beyond him.

Gradually, Blaine stopped and lifted himself free to look into Kurt's eyes. The distance between them was almost non-existent. "Can we talk about things later?" he asked, suddenly very serious.

Kurt could feel his heart hammering in his ribcage, faster and faster at the prospect of what such a conversation would entail. "Of course," he managed to say quietly.

Blaine swallowed, slightly nervous himself despite the fact that his hands were still clasped around Kurt's hips and they were both strategically slotted together against the wall.

"Just, we haven't talked about... it... yet and we need to..." he tried, his cheeks darkening. It was difficult to know how to approach the subject but Blaine was sure they were in that place where they could talk and it'd be sensible and honest, even a bit heated.

"Mmmm hmmm," Kurt agreed, words failing him entirely. To this, Blaine grinned happily and leaned back, steadying himself before reaching for the zipper of his pants.

"Ok!" Kurt interjected, unsure if he could cope with any more, "I'll be outside once you're ready and we'll pay."

As he slid out of the curtain, falling into a seat on the opposite side, he tilted his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, breathing in a regular beat to calm himself. Every nerve ending was firing, every part of his body embodied his pulse in the most intense way and above all, he was sure he was bright red and painfully obvious. A young guy exited the cubicle two down from where Blaine was currently, possibly, definitely half naked again and smiled at Kurt... knowingly. It was more of a smirk if Kurt was honest and in that moment, that single painful moment, he simply wanted the ground to swallow him up whole.

Once Blaine was fully dressed as himself again, Kurt had ushered him to the checkout in a flurry of hands and refusals of payment. Blaine had stuffed Kurt's wallet back into his pocket indignantly, disallowing him to pay for a single thing. As the cashier handed Blaine the shiny black cardboard bag, he dangled it in front of Kurt.

"I suppose you'll be wanting to carry the pretty shopping bag?" he asked, full of amusement.

Kurt tipped his head with a tiny smirk. "You think you're so clever," he teased but reached for the plaited silver handles and held on tight- a high class shopping bag was akin to fashion accessory after all.

* * *

They found themselves once more in a coffee shop, Blaine nibbling a biscuit as Kurt talked incessantly.

"As prom isn't at Dalton and is at that other venue, which I definitely approve of after extensive research, I wanted to ask you something?"

Blaine peeked over the rim of his mug. "Anything."

"Would you mind getting dressed at my house? I kind of want my dad to be there and Carole would love it. I know my dad doesn't seem like the kind of guy who'd want to help his son get ready for his high school prom, even if I'm not graduating this year but he's been there for everything and I think I'd like him around."

Blaine smiled, watching Kurt muse about his father. It was true, Burt didn't seem like the kind of dad to bill and coo over fancy events but if Blaine knew one thing about the Hummel family, it was the strength of the bond they had and the amount of love that Burt held for his son.

"Of course I wouldn't mind. It sounds perfect. It's a plan." Kurt watched with a delirious smile as Blaine tapped a quick message on his phone. "I'll be right back, just going to go to the rest room."

Kurt nodded, sipping the cream off his coffee, the heat warming his throat as he swallowed more. He glanced over at Blaine's phone, the red light flashing over and over again in an attempt to notify someone that it had something to declare. Kurt didn't intend on reading the message but simply pressed a button to stop it flashing, however, in a second, the message flashed up on screen and Kurt found himself close to crying.

The thumbnail of the photograph they'd taken together had been sent to someone. Kurt glanced up at the name: _Thomas_ _Masters_. Underneath the picture, Blaine had typed a small message.

"_**Having the best day. How beautiful is my boyfriend?"**_

Kurt didn't even have the chance to read Thomas' response as he heard the restroom door close. He dropped the phone, sliding his hands around his coffee once more, tighter this time. He was shaking for some reason, a torrent of emotions sweeping through his heart as he grinned dreamily into the side of his mug. He watched as Blaine dropped back into his seat, picked up his phone, read the response from Thomas and smiled perfectly, his teeth showing a little and eyes crinkling at the corners. Kurt was sure that life simply could not get better.

* * *

**_*swoon*_**


	36. Honesty and Inebritation Part 1

_**HELLO EVERYONE! I made a decision to add another Chapter before the end. It's all planned out BUT I really wanted to write these extra couple of Chapters so I split them in two. I hope that's alright with you guys : ) So, this Chapter is only half of the arc.**_

_**The Surname. The bain of my life. I began writing this story in early November before anyone even knew if Blaine was going to be GIVEN a surname... haha... so I made one up. As this is a continual story, I kept it the same and OBVIOUSLY it's used quite a lot. All I have to say is that I'm going to go back and change it to Anderson. So from the previous chapter, Blaine is Blaine Anderson. Every reference to his name will be changed in due course. I have had quite a few comments about this and it's something I've decided to do. I hope it doesn't take away from the continuity of the story. **_

_**I've also had a few people ask what Thomas looks like and WHO he can be likened to. Armie Hammer. There you go! There's a link in my profile of a picture which is almost EXACTLY as I imagine Thomas. I imagine Tom to be a bit MORE muscular because he's sporty and very athletic. I bloomin' ADORE Social Network and think Armie's wife is INSANELY lucky. He'd look good in Dalton uniform, right? Shame Tom's graduated : ( ha! So I hope that assists those who wanted an image : )**_

_**I REALLY hope you like this half : ) It was a lot of fun to write. I have to thank ALL of you for your frankly gorgeous comments. I mean, nearly 1,200 comments on this silly story of mine. To say I'm grateful is getting repetitive now but it's SO true. I'm still in shock that people are STILL with me! THANK YOU ALL.**_

_**

* * *

**_

Kurt giggled, ducking his head with a quick bite of his lip. Blaine's fingers tracked light patterns over his palm, tickling in the most distracting way. Kurt had tried to ignore it, tried to breathe deep and focus but nothing was going to work. Blaine was in one of those moods – mischievous – and nothing was going to snap him out of it. Kurt, if he was completely honest with himself, had no intention of trying too hard as the playful way he was being teased was more than ok.

"Blaine!" he hissed, half laughing in an exaggerated whisper.

Blaine flashed a look, as innocent as an angel, and batted his eyelids with a smirk. "What?"

"Keep your hands to yourself."

The response was inevitable, Kurt told himself. He wasn't about to protest again because it seemed that any form of resistance was only fuelling Blaine's sneakiness. Kurt shuddered, feeling a blast of warm air on his neck. With a snap of his head, he found Blaine tucked slightly behind him on the couch, leaning against the arm but bent forward in an attempt to look nonchalant. It wasn't working. He had the perfect position for his endeavours as Kurt had sat to his side but slightly in front. There was no time to move so Kurt sighed, rolling his eyes, and feigned disinterest, all the while his heart felt sure to beat its way out of his chest.

In a flash, Kurt felt fingers trail along the small of his back, slow and languid. That did it. His skin flooded hot and with eyes like billiard balls, he turned and grabbed Blaine's hands. The groan as Kurt pressed his fingernails in Blaine's skin was so audible that Kurt spat out a laugh, quickly muffled by his own hand.

"Kurt! Is there a problem?"

Kurt knew he was tomato red and flustered but he turned, solidifying his game face, to find Wes glaring in their general direction.

"Um, N... No. No problem. Please continue."

Wes swallowed, looking pointedly at Blaine. The entire room of Warblers were staring too, eyes lingering in a questioning manner, some smirking knowingly and some in mild shock. Kurt lowered his eyes feeling Blaine relax beside him with a huff.

"That was your fault," he hissed quietly without looking at Blaine.

"Can't help it," was the reply, drawled out in Blaine's lowest register. Kurt's mind flickered with the most intense array of images, most of them akin to melted butter, chocolate pudding, velvet and anything else scrumptious. He blinked rapidly, sure the entire room could read his mind.

"Wes is going to murder both of us. Do you want that? Do you want to be killed?"

Blaine laughed breathlessly, eyes transfixed on Wes in an attempt to pretend his was listening intently.

"You're just so distracting," Blaine groaned again, his voice laced with amusement, "and Wes is boring. It's a bad combination."

"Shhhh." Kurt nudged him sharply, focusing on Wes' face in an attempt to redeem himself. Not getting a solo was bad enough never mind having to fend off the wrath of 'official' Wes.

"As you will all be well aware," Wes pressed on, his knuckles white from clutching his gavel, "it's our mixer tomorrow night. The girls from St Luciana's will be present this time. Now, you all know that St Luciana's is another of our sister schools but they actually compete in the show choir competition so we need to be on our game and have Seasons of Love finalised before then."

Kurt gasped and grabbed Blaine's knee. He raised his hand instantly, stretching as high as physically possible in an attempt to show his impatience.

"Yes, Kurt?"

"Seasons of Love as in Rent?"

Wes shook his head. "No, as in Shiny Toy Guns. It's perfect for our eight part harmony. Don't worry, we can work on it this afternoon for those who are unfamiliar with it."

Kurt sighed, resting back in his chair. It was a momentary lapse of judgement as it was the very place where Blaine's arm was positioned, ready and waiting.

"You," he turned with a sharp whisper but a smile not far from his lips, "are impossible."

Blaine feigned attention and focused his hazel eyes on Wes as his heart skipped in his chest. He could get used to the fun of having a boyfriend, granted, but with Kurt there was something extra there making it doubly as exciting.

* * *

The afternoon rehearsals began awkwardly, some of the group entirely unaware of the song and the new style, however, after the third or fourth practice, the harmonies were melding together nicely and David was ready to step in with the choreography. Kurt choked back a laugh at the fact their usual side-step routine could be termed 'choreography'.

"Hey Kurt," Blaine called, rushing up behind him out of the door after rehearsals, "you are coming tomorrow aren't you?"

"The mixer?"

Blaine nodded. "If it's not your kind of thing then it's completely fine, we can do anything you want, I just thought I'd ask because I didn't really know if it was something you'd be interested in doing because-"

"Blaine," Kurt interjected, his hand reaching out tentatively to press slightly against his chest, "as much as I regret having to stop you mid adorable rant, you don't have to worry. It sounds fun. Of course I'll go and," he paused, looked down with a smile then back up under his eyelashes, Blaine sighed obviously, "you'll be there so..."

"You," Blaine cooed, stepping closer and wrapping his fingers around Kurt's tie, pulling him forward slightly, "are pretty special." Kurt felt his back arch and shoulder rise as Blaine's lips pressed somewhat feverishly against his own. A wide and strong hand snaked its way around his waist, holding him still. As soon as he could breathe again, he opened his eyes, taking in Blaine's dilated pupils, long dark eyelashes and half smile.

"Homework," Kurt stated. As he said the word he could feel the air thin eventually, dissolving the heightened tension that bloomed and fizzled between them now. It was a buzz kill and he knew it but Blaine didn't seem to find it annoying.

"You work too hard," Blaine smiled, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"If you thought more about work..." Kurt suggested with a pointed raise of his plucked eyebrows. He left the ending in mid air intentionally.

"You mean you'd rather I stick my head in my French textbook than bother you?"

"You might raise your grade to an A."

Blaine spluttered. "French and I do not get on. In fact, we hate each other. I am not made for foreign languages. Anyway, there'd be no kisses or snuggling up to me watching a movie or dates or meals or-"

"Keep your voice down," Kurt hissed, glancing around at the many boys wandering the halls, "it might be an all-boys school but that does not stop the gossiping."

"Let them gossip."

Kurt rolled his eyes, feeling his chest swell with pride secretly. His mind momentarily dragged his subconscious back to a couple of days after Burt had been released from hospital. Finn had given him the "if you sing with Sam he'll be beaten to a pulp on the pitch" spiel and, his dad, his loving and ever-trying dad, had told him that maybe he had to go it alone until he found someone as brave as he had grown to be. Kurt let his eyes linger on Blaine's for a few seconds longer, drinking in the sparkly openness and honesty.

"You're wonderful," Kurt said, without concern or restriction. He watched as Blaine blinked, frowned in thought and then drew his face into the biggest and most blazing smile Kurt was sure he'd ever seen. With a baby kiss to Blaine's curved lips, Kurt stepped back, ducking from the embrace with a slight flounce. He spoke as he walked backwards in the direction of the staircase. "I have homework. You have homework. We will make up for it tomorrow."

It was as if Kurt anchored Blaine in place. He watched Kurt turn and leave; Blaine's shoulders almost followed, his brain so ready to pursue Kurt up the staircase and hands aching to reach out to touch. It was something inherent now and as scary as it felt to recognise such a deep rooted connection with another, Blaine's heart sang loud nowadays- it was a sure sign that he was truly happy and as smitten as humanly possible – even if Kurt was a hopeless tease.

As he drained the dreamy expression off his face, Blaine jumped a little as his phone buzzed in his blazer pocket.

_**You free tonight? I'm home for a few days again. I miss my hobbit of a best friend. Nobody has curls at Brown, only comb-overs. They're boring. Can I come over? Tom x**_

Blaine pulled a face, startling a student as he passed. Thomas Masters clearly liked himself as a comedian.

_**I hate you but I guess I have space for your giant-like frame in my room for the evening. B xx PS: I'll shave them off if you insist on mocking them.**_

With a smirk, Blaine pocketed his phone and began his ascent to his room. In seconds it buzzed again.

_**You have a weird shaped skull. Don't shave them. No guy's going to want to want to sleep with you if you have a weird hairless skull. TomTom x**_

Blaine was resigned to the fact that his best friend was _wonderfully_ eccentric, _horrendously_ posh, _freakishly_ tall and resembled a slightly stockier Armie Hammer, but even Thomas was capable of cranking up the crazy dial every now and then.

Upon entering his room, Blaine shrugged off his blazer and threw his book bag down on his duvet. He had a pile of work but it would have to wait. He'd spent the entire day reeling himself in desperately and somehow he'd managed it to a decent degree despite the fact that he simply wanted to let himself go. Having a boyfriend was amazing, wonderful, exciting and definitely worth every second but it was also difficult when he was around every single day as well. Kurt was distracting. It was his skin, the way he'd primly smooth his hair down, the natural scent he had which was a crazy mixture of flowers and boy, the size of his teeny waist, the pout that materialised every now and then, his sharp words, the way he'd blush even as he tried to resist any advances, the sparkle in his eyes when he tried to speak with them, the way his fingers wrapped themselves delicately around his knee as he sat...

"Blaine?"

He jumped, swinging around to find Thomas standing in his doorway.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Blaine whined, realising he was simply standing in the centre of his room staring into space.

"Trying to check you're alive more like," Thomas smirked, closing the door behind him and walking towards the bed, "where were you before?"

Blaine kept his eyes on Thomas as he made himself at home and fit immediately into the surroundings. He was so easy in life that it felt nice to learn from him.

"Kurtland," Blaine groaned, flopping down on the bed too.

As silence remained, Blaine turned to find Thomas smirking at him accusingly. "Your picture was exceptionally cute. He's adorable. Exceptional hair."

Blaine choked on his laugh. "Yea," he spat playfully, "until you feel his wrath." The warm fond smile that graced his lips caused the words spoken to take an entirely different meaning.

"Feisty," Thomas considered, "nice."

"I think I'm going crazy." The boom of Thomas' chuckle caused Blaine to jump a little. "What? I am!"

"Anderson, you've always been crazy. What is it?"

Blaine closed his eyes, unsure if talking about it was a good idea. It could turn rapidly into an embarrassing train wreck but, on the other hand, if anyone would understand it'd be Thomas. He took a deep breath and turned on the bed, crossing his legs in front of him, to face his best friend.

"I need you to promise that you won't laugh at me."

Thomas smiled and mirrored Blaine's actions- they both sat facing each other comfortably. Blaine watched as Thomas folded up the sleeves of his thin red checked cheesecloth shirt and leaned in, ever the good listener. "There shall be no laughing."

"I need advice." Blaine could feel himself blushing. It was impossible and mortifying but no amount of will power or mental control could halt it. Being a teenager sucked.

"On?"

"You're older than me. You're more experienced than me." Blaine could feel his skin actually burning as Thomas' forehead wrinkled dissipated into a knowing smile.

"Aha I think I'm on the right track."

"I need advice."

The lilting laugh that followed only sought to make Blaine flush a deeper red. "You need sex advice," Thomas corrected, raising his eyebrows and speaking with a tone akin to a lawyer giving advice. Thomas was sickeningly in control at times.

"Yes."

"And here was me believing I was coming over to watch a movie or something. Wow, Anderson I could cook stuff on your face," Thomas teased, reaching out to feel the heat radiating.

"Shut up! Seriously, ok this is a bad idea," Blaine snapped, as he tried to climb from the bed, "you are cruel."

Thomas couldn't breathe for laughing. "Come here you. Anderson. Sit." He reached for Blaine's arm, tugging him down. "Look, I'm teasing. You're only a little bit red and it's cute so stop freaking out."

"I'm kicking your ass out if you pull something like that again. I'm trying to be responsible here."

Thomas smiled, reaching to touch his finger to Blaine's nose lovingly. "Aw I know and you're being the thoughtful, prepared boyfriend. It's impossibly adorable. I'll try and help as best I can. I'll channel my inner gay yoda. Little one, tell troubles your me."

It was in that moment that Blaine wanted to hug the life out his friend. He might have been an ass but he was one with an enormous heart.

Blaine swallowed thickly, wondering there to begin. "I just need to talk to Kurt about it because I want us to be honest with each other. We said we'd talk about it but I wanted to wait until I was sure I could do it properly."

"Do you feel ready to?"

Blaine felt something tighten happily in his stomach. "Talk about it or do it?"

There was an inevitable laugh as Thomas' grin almost broke his face. His eyes crinkled as he chuckled. "Well both, Dummy."

"Yes and Yes," Blaine replied, sure of his words. He straightened his back and placed his hands in his lap, suddenly feeling much more confident. Thomas was making it easier.

"Talking to Kurt is a must. You need to know that he's ready too because although you're very close and are head over heels, that's sometimes not enough to get the ball rolling. He needs to know that you're not bothered either way as you're willing to respect his decisions and work to his time frame."

"I am, god I am," Blaine spluttered out, "I don't want to pressure him into anything if he doesn't want to. I don't even know if he does, I just know that there's a possibility he might want to hold off for a while."

Thomas nodded, understanding every word. "Well, if that's the case then you wait."

"Of course I would."

"So," Thomas began, his head tilting to take in Blaine's thoughtful expression, "we've established that you need to talk and that you just need to get it out there and in the open. Even if you don't do it yet, at least you've discussed it. It's the sign of an honest relationship."

"I was going to talk to him soon. We agreed to."

"Good. Now, what else did you want to talk about?"

Blaine wasn't sure he was going to be so good at this but he continued anyway, holding onto the inherent trust he and Thomas shared. "Mechanics."

"Jesus," Thomas began to chuckle infectiously, "you sound like a manual. 'Thomas I'd like you to advise me upon how one would go about administering pleasure to my significant other'"

"I hate you," Blaine groaned, burying his head in his hands, "I actually hate you."

"Hey, I'm joking," Thomas laughed still, his breathing stuttering through amusement, "look, you're so bloody proper it's just funny. It's not a bad thing, it's cute. Look at me moron."

Blaine frowned, drawing his pink cheeks from his hands and pointing his eyes towards Thomas. "I just need you to talk me through some stuff that's all because I know a lot, I mean I'm not a prude or anything I just need you to fill in some gaps."

"Who'd have thought we'd be sitting here doing this? I mean, I feel like I should pass you pamphlets and take you to the sexual health clinic."

"You're not my dad," Blaine said sharply, swatting Thomas's shoulder. He was bigger, much bigger, so it was a touch akin to a feather pressing against skin.

"Thank jesus for that. Anyway, I will tell you what you want to know. Shoot." The list of questions tumbled through Blaine's mind, frantic and tangled- too many questions, too many queries and myths to iron out. Thomas could almost see the cogs turning. He sighed fondly. "Look, where's your laptop?"

"Oh god, Thomas, no." Blaine grabbed for his friend's hands, eyes blown wide.

Thomas giggled again. "Christ Anderson, I'm not going to make you watch porn. Chill... out. Have you ever heard of GMFA?"

"What's that?"

"It's a charity. Gay Men's Health Charity. It's pretty informative."

Blaine dragged his laptop to the bed and watched as Thomas pulled it open and began clicking. The silence was easy but Blaine focused in on the reality of the situation, his stomach twitching in a desperate need to laugh. It was funny, it truly was, but it was also deeply touching. Without Thomas he had nobody to turn to about these matters. He wanted to talk to Kurt when he was fully informed, not a bumbling idiot, and Sylvie was an absolute no-go – no grandmother wanted to imagine her son in compromising positions, no matter the sexual preference- so he was left with the internet, books or health clinics. None of which were going to provide comfort and personal guidance so as Blaine watched Thomas' look of sheer concentration in the light of his screen, he knew he couldn't love him more.

"Thank you for doing this," Blaine said quietly, peering over his computer.

"Anytime Anderson," Thomas smiled, motioning for Blaine to sit by him, "so you wanna go through it step by step?"

They spent an hour clicking and talking, resulting in Blaine almost itching to take notes. Not only was Thomas open and honest, he was also willing to provide inside information and first hand accounts. For some unknown reason, Blaine didn't seem to suffer with embarrassment, possibly on account of Thomas' matter of fact approach.

"So how do you choose which one of you gets to...?"

"Bloody hell there's no coin flipping or anything, Anderson. You just choose. It's what you want not which one chooses heads or tails, although that can be a game for later."

He began to laugh, loud and immeasurably amused at his own joke. Blaine bit his lip, fighting back giggles too. "So can I ask you a question?"

Thomas smirked, biting his lip too. "Anderson, we've just discussed the ins and outs of oral sex, I think questions are very much allowed."

"Well this question is a little private."

"Again, I don't think there's a problem with asking personal questions. God, just ask me." He shook his head with exasperation but ultimate warmth.

"How was your first time?" Blaine eased the question out, his eyes filled with sincerity.

Thomas grew wistful for a second before taking a breath. "It was ok, I guess. Awkward and a little uncomfortable but he was a nice guy."

"Do you mind if I ask who?"

"No, course not. You remember James? Blonde curls? Blue eyes? He was a swimmer and went to St Andrews?"

"The one with the freckles?"

Thomas smiled affectionately. "The one with the freckles."

"I like him, he was nice. What happened to him?"

"Moved onto greener pastures. Bit of an ass really but it was good while it lasted."

"So you don't regret it?" Blaine's heart hurt. Thomas was a good guy, better than most, and he'd been played more times than a pinball machine.

"I do wish it'd been with someone that truly loved me back but we were really into each other and he was a nice guy, I guess. Shame he didn't think with his brain."

"Have you, erm," Blaine began, smiling as he ducked his head, "taken that step with Harry yet?"

It was as if Thomas' eyebrows were on strings they flew that high. "Look at you fishing for details," he laughed, "and no we haven't. I don't want to quite yet."

"Why not? Is he not the guy you thought he was?"

The way Thomas' skin tinged pink, Blaine knew the answer to the question before his friend spoke. "The opposite. He's a lot more than I realised and I don't want to rush things. He's nice, really nice, and I just want to enjoy being with him for a while. You know?"

"I want him to be good to you," Blaine admitted truthfully. He nudged Thomas' shoulder affectionately before closing his laptop with a snap.

"He makes me happy. He's so hot it hurts. He's a gentleman. He's out and proud. He comes with zero baggage and he gets how hard we have to work. Law takes your life and puts it in a vice but he gets it. He's thoughtful and fun. I really like him so we'll get around to all of that, I just want to make it mean something spectacular."

Blaine watched the sparkles dance in Thomas' eyes, the tiny secret smile he tried to hide, the way his eyelashes fluttered more and hands wrapped themselves together. He was completely smitten.

"I want to make you hot chocolate or something."

"What?" Thomas chuckled, glancing at Blaine as if he was insane, "who knew the payment for sexual advice was hot beverages?"

"Come on," Blaine urged, pulling Thomas' elbow as he clambered off the bed, "Isla ordered in a new batch of that expensive hot chocolate powder and I know where Wes' secret stash is."

"Quite the Miss Marple aren't you?" Thomas replied, his legs tangling as he tried to stand up.

Blaine huffed his irritation at Thomas' terrible jokes but stopped short of the door and turned.

"What now? I offer advice on reaching the optimum physical peak for rowing and upon an array of legal disputes too..."

"You're the best," Blaine said simply. He felt his heart swell happily as Thomas laughed a little with a slight frown. He was terrible at taking a compliment. In a second, a warm kiss was pressed into his hair and two strong hands angled him towards the door.

"You're not so bad yourself, Anderson. Now I want my payment."

* * *

After two mugs of 'payment', Thomas gave Blaine a tight hug and left for his car. As Blaine made his way back to his room, something stopped him and took him in the direction of Kurt's room.

As he rounded the corner, noticing the light from the gap to the side of the door, Blaine felt his heartbeat quicken and palms heat up. The things Kurt did without even realising. As he peeked his head into the room, he swallowed a laugh at the sight of Kurt positioned at his desk, earphones in and bopping dramatically to his music. His frame was outlined by the warm glow of his Tiffany lamp- he looked like an angel.

The faint muffle of Gaga was enough to tell him that Kurt wouldn't hear a thing if he was to sneak into the room. He did exactly that, stepping quietly, desperate to reach Kurt. As he neared the back of his chair, he could see the neat and coloured crib cards spread out in piles and the softness of Kurt's sweater. The heady smell of camomile hit his nose sending his senses into over-drive. Something about Kurt was so inherently comforting but, at the same time, felt other worldly, eccentric and achingly special. Blaine was sure he hadn't met anyone quite like him and wasn't likely to again.

Blaine bit his lip and leaned down gradually. He pressed his lips to Kurt's neck but was met with a squeal and a hand sharp to his shoulder.

"What the-"

"It's me! It's me!" Blaine winced, laughing. As his eyes met Kurt's frantic ones, he felt another jab to his shoulder.

"You idiot. You complete and utter idiot, Blaine Anderson. Who goes creeping around like something from a horror movie? My nerves are fragile, you know?"

"I'm sorry, you just looked very cute," Blaine cooed, kneeling down in front of Kurt's knees, "and I wanted to say goodnight before I went to sleep."

"Sneaking up behind someone in the dark and terrifying the life out of them is not generally the way one says goodnight, Blaine." Kurt could barely hide his smile beyond the snark. His heart was beating out of time but the cause wasn't simply the pure terror of being shocked out of his nightly rendition of 'Born This Way'. Blaine looked lovely; his hair was loose and curling over the edge of his bottle green sweater.

"Do you forgive me?" Blaine asked sheepishly, almost pouting in response, "I'm so very sorry."

"I might be persuaded," Kurt teased gently with a smile.

It was all the encouragement Blaine needed. He leaned up, tugging at the cloud-like fluff of Kurt's sweater and pulling him closer gradually until their lips met gently. As Kurt's hand slid into Blaine's hair, he was sure his body was melting, actually turning to liquid at the delicious way it felt to be touched so preciously. Kurt was delicate and any touch was usually feather-light and tender but at times he was persistent and rough- it mirrored his personality perfectly. The fun was working out which mood Kurt was in by the way he handled you.

Kurt gasped into the kiss at the pitter patter of fingers travelling up his thighs. His back arched and fingers tugged at the handful of curls he held. Blaine's entire body buzzed into life as he felt the distinct responsiveness of Kurt's body at every single movement.

"Mmmm," Blaine mumbled into a slightly deeper kiss. The way he wriggled happily at the touch only prompted Kurt to pull him closer and with more intent. He felt his own skin prickle with heat at the response. He was causing Blaine to react this way, he was causing him to make those tiny noises...

Blaine sucked his lips free, gazing woozily up into Kurt's eyes. "Goodnight, then," he said simply but entirely breathless.

Kurt gaped, his lips pink and in a pout which could only be described as petulant. "You're leaving?" He didn't intend for his voice to sound so needy but there it was...

Blaine reached the door and turned, taking in Kurt's ruffled clothes and flushed face. He took a breath to steady himself before offering a wink and disappearing into the corridor. The tiny jump of elation was inevitable and so was the added confidence to take their relationship to the next level. He was informed and fired up with more happiness than he was sure he could handle.

* * *

_**Well, I fell in love with Thomas more and pretty much died writing their scene at their adorable relationship. The end killed me too. I love writing stroppy but "I love it really" Kurt ; )**_

_**I tried to sort the Britishisms out but I FEAR there may be one or two that I'm entirely unaware of... please let me know and I'll sort them out.  
**_

_**Next Chapter: Both boys attend the mixer and things get a little... out of hand.**_


	37. Honesty and Inebritation Part 2

_**I've kept you guys waiting so long that I'm keeping my A/N for the end of the Chapter. The only thing I need to mention now is that there is a link on my profile for the song which appears in this Chapter and it is DEFINITELY worth listening to as the scene begins. (the video's a bit odd but just don't watch it- it's because there were only live versions available!)**_

_**ANYWAY – please please please enjoy : )**_

_**

* * *

**_

Wes was stressed.

It wasn't the conventional kind of stressed where one is mildly anxious but the encapsulating stress that grasps every nerve and twists until veins pop and skin flushes. Blaine had tried, he really had, biting his lip, coughing to cover giggles, positioned himself to prop his chin on his arm in an attempt to shield his mouth from sight... nothing was working. It was all too funny witnessing the melt down of one Wesley Kim.

"Wes why don't you just give some of the responsibility to other Warblers?" Blaine asked, cocking an eyebrow in the direction of his roommate who had decided to rearrange the snack table for the hundredth time.

Blaine coughed again, masking another laugh at Wes' very intentional silence as Isla made an appearance into the senior commons. Wes had made it completely plain that he was to be in charge of this particular event in order to ensure every base had been covered. The St Luciana Songbirds were sweet enough but, compared to the Crawford Country Day ladies, they were the most competitive and always hit Regionals with a bang. Wes took it personally in every respect.

"Dumpling?"

"Isla," Wes smiled thinly resenting the term of endearment and turning with wide eyes to find her holding a large barrel of drinks.

"You boys are singing your songs tonight, aren't you?"

"Yes, Isla. We're singing. Why?" he drawled, words masked with pleasantries. Blaine was sure he could see the vein making a reappearance in a Julia Roberts-esque manner.

"Well, I bought a lovely collection of thirst quenchers for you all. Lots of flavours and they're low in sugar and preservatives. Keep those teeth in check," he cooed, smiling hugely. Isla was a trooper. She'd serviced Dalton's kitchens for years, providing a beaming smile, motherly quip and the world's most hearty food any student could ever wish for. She was also, said with the utmost respect, a busy body. Blaine loved her, especially the way her wavy ginger hair threatened to break free from her tight bun much as his own fought against his gel – she was of Irish descent and had the accent to boot. The fact that she was the only person in charge of supervision for the impending event was enough to ensure that the Warblers had complete control.

"Thank you Isla. There's no need to do anymore. We've got it from here."

Blaine watched as she nodded but didn't move. It was all he could do, from his spot on the couch, to not jump up to help but it was something of a spectacle to witness Wes' resolve weaken by the second - Blaine wanted to be there at the bitter end.

"Are you sure sweetie? I have a fruit basket to bring yet and not to mention my scones, oh you boys don't know whatcha missin'." Blaine grinned, receiving Isla's attention wholeheartedly. He was out of uniform and in a simple dark sweater and fitted jeans, which still seemed to cause her a few problems. "Oh dear, I didn't notice you there. How are you my lovely?"

"Very good thank you Isla, how are you this evening?"

Wes groaned, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the spread. "Oh dear, you're always so polite. I'm feeling full of busy, full of busy. It's nice to be able to help."

"Well we're extremely grateful aren't we, Wesley?"

It was another chip at his armour, Blaine mused sneakily. "Yes Blaine," Wes spat, turning with a sour grin, "we're ever so grateful."

After ten minutes of chat, Blaine waved to Isla as she left in a flurry of blown kisses and motherly pats. She'd provided the muffins, scones, fruit basket and a host of other delicacies which nobody could identify. The senior commons was filling up with Warblers aiming to help out; Wes was actually purple and regaling the other guys with his woes.

"...and Blaine entertained her for another hour so of COURSE she had to bring more food and mess up the system. Anderson's incapable of just dropping the 'perfect' routine for a second to just... get RID of her. I mean she's nice and feeds us well but she hasn't LEFT ME ALONE all day and I'm behind with planning so much so that the Songbird girls are going to sense the unpreparedness..."

Many of the Warbler guys were masking smiles and winking in Blaine's direction. He was hardly phased by Wes' rants – he was his long suffering roommate after all.

"Love you too Wesley. As always," Blaine chimed. The glare shot in his direction was of pure poison but Blaine still managed to see the twinge of love in there, buried deep.

Blaine tucked his bookmark into his novel, sliding it back into his bag as a voice came from behind him.

"You in his bad books?"

"If you've come to help me wind up Wes then," Blaine mused, "take a seat."

Thomas laughed, flopping down on the opposite end of the couch. "He ready to blow?"

"Oh we're close, very close."

Blaine beamed, nudging Thomas' shoulder. His best friend had become somewhat of a permanent fixture over the previous couple of days due to Prom arrangements and fatherly insistence. "So, haven't seen you all day, how's life Anderson?"

Blaine frowned, narrowing his eyes. "What?"

The shroud of innocence that washed over Thomas' face said it all. "Nothing. Just enquiring about my dear friend. Can't I do that?"

"I haven't done it yet if that's what you were going to ask," Blaine said cleverly, shaking his head with feigned exasperation, "because I can tell you're itching to. I know you."

Thomas laughed, letting his head fall back onto the solid leather. "I was merely being polite and a good friend," he answered simply with raised eyebrows, "but that's good to know too." Blaine wasn't stupid- he caught the smug look.

"Just because I asked you about," he lowered his voice, leaning into Thomas' shoulder, "... personal stuff does not mean you can be so high and mighty."

"Woah Woah Blaine chill... out. Just keeping a track of things. Would you rather I didn't take an interest?"

"You take too keen an interest Tom, that's your problem." He half laughed.

"Well, please instruct me in the rules of prudence next time you wish to discuss the many tricks involved in giving exceptional blow jobs."

"Tom!" Blaine spat, "I swear. Shut. Up."

The deep laughter that followed was enough to drive Blaine insane. "Just teasing. I'll be quiet. Just need to know you've thought tonight over, that's all."

With a quick turn of his head, Blaine's forehead fell into the deepest of wrinkles. "Thought what over?"

"Tonight."

"Tom, if you're trying to tell me something then spit it out. What?"

"Look B," Thomas said quietly leaning his head close to Blaine's on the couch to mask his voice, "what we talked about. These mixers are known for getting a little bit... well, safe to say I ended up in the Right Wing in a darkened room with one of the Songbirds in nothing but Victoria Secret's latest collection a couple of years ago and she knew I was gay too. It took quick thinking and some serious stealth to avoid a pretty horrific situation."

The whites of Blaine's eyes shone bright. "Oh my god, please tell me you're not being serious."

"Anderson, you missed last year's shindig didn't you?"

"Yes but I'm sure I'm more than capable of looking after myself."

After a brief smile, Thomas chuckled, shaking his head. "Ever the adorable optimist. I'm just going to warn you now because I've been to these Pre-Regionals mixers for three years and, let me tell you, Dalton's foundations are built on the stories they provide."

"What's that got to do with what we talked about?"

"I'm going to use an equation because I know how much you like math," Thomas teased, smirking playfully, "you plus Kurt plus alcohol plus lack of supervision plus empty dorm rooms equals possible bad decisions. The by-products being terrible headaches, sketchy memories and a whole bunch of that lovely thing we call regret."

"Tom," Blaine groaned, "I'm not just going to pounce on Kurt at the very first chance I get and anyway, I can handle one drink."

The couch shook with Thomas' laughter. "Anderson, you're a lightweight. One drink is a bender to you and I'm saying this because I care."

"Tom, I promise, I'm fine. I'm only going to have one drink, we'll perform, the Songbirds will perform, I'll spend time with Kurt, no doubt there will be kisses but as far as the so called empty dorm rooms go... I won't be in them until I'm crawling into bed... alone... to sleep."

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you."

* * *

"Are they safety pins?"

"Yes."

"Boy, you're wearing pants held together by safety pins to a prep school Show Choir mixer?"

"Mercedes," Kurt snapped, throwing closed his closet door with a huff, "what else do you suggest I wear because short of a garbage bag, I haven't got anything I feel happy in."

She laughed, the mechanical sound echoing around Kurt's room from his speakers beside his laptop following an epic afternoon Skype session.

"So what's the plan for tonight?"

The pile of unwanted clothes was mounting with every syllable Kurt spoke, a mix of patterns, textures and labels to rival Fashion Week remnants. "It's a pre-Regionals mixer even though our Regionals round isn't for a while."

"So is your boy toy taking you?" she asked, shuffling closer to the screen as if it'd make a slight bit of difference. Kurt rolled his eyes, crinkling is nose in disgust at a particularly old pair of jeans with a hole close to the crotch.

"Urgh, I need to marry a rich man so he can keep my in the manner to which I want to be accustomed," he groaned before turning his attention back to the screen, "and yes, Mercedes, Blaine is coming with me. He's a Warbler too."

She laughed, high pitched and with her trademark squawk. "Baby, have you had _that _talk yet? You said he'd asked you."

Kurt felt his stomach tighten. They hadn't and he was almost glad of it. It was sensible to talk, that he understood from experiencing the hell of baby drama in McKinley and Finn's transparent dumbness when it came to the ways in which babies were conceived, but the thought of saying _those _things to Blaine prompted a deep feeling of nausea.

"No, not yet," he stated simply, still rifling through the pile. He tried to change the subject. "What do you think of this shirt?"

Mercedes cocked her head in thought. "What colour is it? Bring it closer to the screen." Her manicured finger beckoned him forward.

"It's purple check. I thought I'd wear these too," he offered, threading a pair of plum braces over the arms of the shirt, "what do you think?"

"Fierce," Mercedes smiled giving a definite thumbs up. With a rock back on his heels, Kurt smiled and waved as he disappeared into the bathroom to change.

In ten minutes, he appeared in full outfit to a loud wolf whistle. "Thoughts?"

"Damn boy, if he doesn't rip those clothes off you in seconds then he's not worth a boyfriend like you."

Kurt grinned, pushing away the nervous twinge that her suggestion caused to the back of his mind. Was he truly ready for that to happen? He'd thought about it a lot and yes, they'd fooled around a lot in an attempt to slowly get used to not only each other but the realisation that they actually had someone to fool around _with. _It didn't come easily, the vulnerability and laying bare that so many other people found so easy, but Blaine had been so wonderfully understanding that Kurt's nerves had seeped away gradually with every step they'd taken. The farthest they'd gone, to date, was shirtless kissing- Kurt wasn't so naive to think that Blaine didn't want more and, if he was truthful to his teenage urges, he wanted it too but that was the problem – the fear was a little greater than the need to strip and dry hump Blaine on his bed or more.

Kurt was sure – no, he was certain – that he was a strange alien sort of teenage boy. Why didn't this 'sex' stuff come easier to him?

"Merce, I'm going to sign off now. I need to go down as it's getting late. Have you got plans?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyebrow. "Kurt, when do I ever have plans? I'm off to have an intimate relationship with my Gossip Girl box set. Nothing like a bit of Chuck Bass to ward off the misery of a night alone. Have fun sweetie."

Deep in Kurt's chest, he felt that longing to curl up on a bed with his best friend. She deserved a fun night and not one alone in her room so he made a mental note to plan an evening of fun in the very near future. Missing her was becoming a daily occurrence.

"Thank you. You too." He blew her a kiss. Her computerised image caught it with a wink before the screen minimised and went black.

After pushing his feet into his black boots and straightening his jeans, Kurt took a breath and left for the party.

* * *

"Ladies, Ladies, welcome," Wes called, standing on the window ledge, "the evening is relaxed from here on out except for our performances so please, help yourselves to drinks and refreshments and enjoy!"

Blaine laughed into his cup, making his way from the refreshment table. It was comical to map the gobstopper-like eyes of his fellow Warblers, all taking in the skirts, or lack of, that the Songbirds were wearing. Jeff was almost salivating, following one particularly pretty blonde Songbird like a sheep.

"You'd think he'd close his mouth," Tom murmured, returning from catching up with David who was now setting up the speakers.

Blaine laughed, shaking his head. "Jeff is eternally celibate and sixteen. Does anything else need to be said?"

"Guess not," Thomas chuckled, clinking Blaine's cup with his, "and what's in there, curly?"

"Shut up." Blaine blushed, lowering his head. The thing about all-girls schools was that, although the parents of such girls spent thousands on their private education and the ladies were revered for their etiquette and 'proper' manners, such seclusion bred rebellion. Within minutes, miniature bottles of vodka were produced from where they'd been cleverly concealed in bras or such like.

Isla had swept the room, smiling and cooing over every young lady followed by the caretaker, Peter, and the night porter Roger who eternally moaned about his job. They had seemed to be reasonably satisfied that nothing untoward was occurring, prompting them to head up to the Rec-lounge to no doubt sample some of Isla's home brew and raisin scones. Blaine had to laugh – Dalton was an interesting establishment.

"I'm going to remain lucid tonight in order to pick up the pieces that will inevitably scatter," Thomas said after a moment's silence. He couldn't help but feel slightly protective of the Warblers, especially Blaine, and was certain they wouldn't see Roger, Isla or Peter again until morning. Someone had to be responsible. He'd attended his fair share of college parties and was sure he'd witnessed inebriation and destruction at its most acute, therefore, he was determined to be the 'sensible one'.

"You like playing Prince Charming, don't you?" Blaine asked, hoisting himself up onto the cabinet along the far wall. Thomas raised his eyebrows playfully.

"And you like climbing on furniture but I don't get up your butt about it do I?"

"I hate you," Blaine groaned, finishing his drink, "see," he glared pointedly, "only one drink and I'm fine."

"Slippery slope, B."

* * *

Kurt swallowed hard. He could hear the music, in fact he could feel it vibrating the decorative vases and candelabras that lined the painted hallway. The Warblers were a cultured bunch but it seemed that the Songbirds were, well, Kurt was sure the only word for them was 'harlots'. He'd already spotted a navy blue jacket wrapped with slim female arms in an abandoned classroom. The nerves were strong now.

It wasn't that he didn't know how to have a good time- he was perfectly capable of letting loose and enjoying himself but teen parties and debauchery were not part of his social schedule and had never been something he'd taken part in, hell, he'd never even been invited. The prospect of a room full of, no doubt, tipsy young men, half undressed girls, loud music, lewd intentions and a whole host of endless possibilities... it was too scary.

"Hummel!" Kurt jumped, swinging around on his heels to find Thomas leaning against the doorframe, "you joining in the madness?"

Kurt gulped. Thomas looked the very picture of handsome in dark brown fitted trousers, a slim cream shirt and black cardigan, which left nothing to the imagination due to his rather huge frame. Kurt never failed to flush with insecurity over his size and general tendency to resemble a 'twelve year old milkmaid' when he was in Thomas' presence, regardless of him being a spectacularly lovely guy.

"Madness?"

Thomas chuckled affectionately. "Well, Jeff has taken to talking to body parts instead of looking the girls in their eyes and David is currently setting up his karaoke machine. He owns a collection of 80s power ballads."

"Wow," Kurt breathed, biting his lip, "how can I miss that?" He was sure to lace every word with enough sarcasm to sharpen a blade.

"My thoughts exactly. Never a dull moment. You want a drink?" he asked. It was more than obvious that Kurt wasn't exactly comfortable judging by his reluctance to move from outside the door, however, if Thomas knew one thing about his best friend, Blaine would squash any anxieties Kurt had in a second. He had smile capable of curing world freakin' peace.

"Do you guys have water?"

The manic laugh in response sent chills down Kurt's spine.

* * *

"Come ooooooooooooooooon," Blaine whined, grabbing at Thomas' shirt, "you're no fun. You're all Mr College. You're such an old old old man."

Kurt giggled, biting at the rim of his cup, swaying a little to David and some Songbird called Kaley's rendition of 'Summer Nights'. Things were beginning to get a little hazy.

"I agree," Kurt offered, deadpanning with a tilt of his head.

Thomas shook his head, heaving himself off the couch and stretching out his hand for Blaine to grab. It was no surprise that he took three tries before his fingers could quite take a hold.

"Kurt, Kurt, Kurt, Kurt," Blaine chanted, letting go to sit back on the couch, "you'll listen?"

"Yes, Blaine," Kurt replied, biting back a grin, "I'm not exactly going to go anywhere." He watched as Blaine skipped behind Thomas as David's duet came to an end. The room was bustling tight and growing stuffier by the second but the jokes were well meant and conversation was flowing nicely- the dancing was far too amusing too. White boys shimmying with girls to a Songbird's solo to 'Single Ladies' had Kurt clinging to the leather of the couch in an attempt to stop himself from showing them how it was done. They were cute, he'd give them that, but they made Beyonce look a lot like flailing in molasses.

Blaine. He was tipsy. It was endearing, especially when it appeared that drunkenness aimed to only heighten his more appealing traits turning him into a ball of inimitable sunshine with a lopsided smile. He couldn't dance for toffee though. Kurt grinned to himself, sitting alone on the couch, as Blaine pushed the songbook in Thomas' face. They were exceptionally sweet together, Thomas propping up Blaine, pushing him back when he became particularly handsy and rolling his eyes at every other comment.

"Yea Tom! Doing it for the old school!" David yelled, one hand in the air, the other wrapped provocatively around Kaley's waist. Kurt was sure he saw a flash of an inked tattoo snaking its way across her lower back. Typical.

Thomas rolled his eyes for the hundredth time that evening. The atmosphere was pleasant and non-judgemental, which was perfect for his return to Warblerdom. Being the previous esteemed soloist had always been an honour but it'd come with a fair amount of pressure which always mounted around competition time, however, this was a party and Blaine was damned insistent.

Blaine grabbed his mic and passed the twin to Thomas. The music began, loud and lilting, with a chorus of trumpet noises and snare drums. Kurt swallowed a giggle as Blaine began to wiggle his hips, opening his mouth to begin.

_This thing called love I just can't handle it  
This thing called love I must get round to it  
I ain't ready  
Crazy little thing called love _

Thomas laughed, shaking his head at Blaine's jerky walk which placed him in the centre of the room between the couches. Kurt smirked, watching them with wide amused eyes. His boyfriend was actually insane. He watched until Thomas opened his mouth, following up with the second verse; Kurt was no longer simply watching, he was staring in shock, his mouth wide and teasing into a smile. The boy could sing.

_This called love  
It cries  
In a cradle all night  
It swings _

Blaine shimmied his way towards Thomas, beckoning him with a crooked finger. In wave-like hip rolls, Thomas joined in, eyebrows raised and fingers clicking in the best impression of a swing singer Kurt was sure he'd ever seen.

_It jives  
It shakes all over like a jelly fish,  
I kinda like it  
Crazy little thing called love_

Kurt swallowed hard, narrowly avoiding spitting his drink down himself as Blaine slid down the side of the couch, shaking his limbs and looking directly at Kurt. Every word was directed at him from that point onwards, much to the surrounding Warblers' amusement- the ensuing cat calls and wolf whistles were just shockingly embarrassing. Blaine took a breath, pointing dead certain at Kurt's blushing face with the shiniest grin.

_There goes my baby  
He knows how to Rock n' roll  
He drives me crazy  
He gives me hot and cold fever  
Then he leaves me in a cool cool sweat _

Kurt noted the pronoun change with a coy smile. From that moment on, both boys danced around each other in perfect unison, their voices melding together cleverly in a way that screamed 'familiarity'. Kurt couldn't help but watch with fondness, knowing that both had taken the spot as Warbler's lead soloist – it all made so much sense seeing them perform together.

_I gotta be cool relax, get hip  
Get on my track's  
Take a back seat, hitch-hike  
And take a long ride on my motor bike  
Until I'm ready  
Crazy little thing called love_

_I gotta be cool relax, get hip  
Get on my track's  
Take a back seat, hitch-hike  
And take a long ride on my motor bike  
Until I'm ready (Ready Freddie)  
Crazy little thing called love_

_This thing called love I just can't handle it  
this thing called love I must get round to it  
I ain't ready  
Crazy little thing called love  
Crazy little thing called love  
Crazy little thing called love  
_ As the music ended, both Blaine and Thomas fell onto the sofa heavily, laughing and struggling to get their breath. Cheers erupted from the girls, some miraculously appearing in front of them both. Kurt was sure their eyelashes would moult if they continued to bat them with as much ferocity but his daydream came to an abrupt halt as Blaine pushed the girls aside and climbed messily over the table separating both couches and landed with a thump beside him.

"Hi," he sighed, leaning his head on Kurt's shoulder. The warmth was immediate and so was the tightness in his stomach that came hand in hand with Blaine-proximity.

"Hey there, Buble," Kurt quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Blaine's face slid easily into a woozy grin. "You liked it! I sang it to you. I thought you'd roll your eyes at me and tell me I was an attention seeker which you diiiiid but you were smiling too which means you liked it. You did didn't you?"

It took a massive amount of will power to avoid an eye roll (it seemed that everyone appeared to have the same reaction to drunk Blaine). Kurt smiled, looking down at Blaine's escaping curls and clever little smirk, unsure of how his boyfriend could move swiftly from being so 'put together' to the gazing, swooning lump beside him.

"I did like it," he offered, sliding a little lower on the couch, "and Thomas has an amazing voice."

Blaine jumped up to a sitting position, clapping his hands on his knees. "He has! He has and he doesn't sing much anymore. He was amazing back in the day. You're amazing though, we should sing together. I'd love that."

Tugging the sleeve of Blaine's dark sweater, Kurt sedately stroked a line down his arm in an attempt to keep him at bay. Two of the Songbirds were smoothly singing a Duffy number, swaying prettily in a very Rachel Berry-esque manner, causing Kurt to smile slowly. He glanced down at Blaine's head which had pressed itself into the crook of his neck. He was humming mindlessly, playing with the bottom of Kurt's braces with the cutest sliding smile creeping on his lips every few seconds.

"What?" Kurt asked, sure the cogs were turning inside Blaine's mind. It seemed that tipsy Blaine was somewhat unpredictable.

"I like you."

Kurt felt the deep red flood his face as an ache spread through his entire body. Blaine really shouldn't ever say things like that. Kurt was sure he'd need some kind of hospitalisation in the very near future if he was subject to such intense feelings any longer.

"I like you too," he said simply, a little quieter even though most of the room were paying attention to anything but them.

"I like when you smile. I like making you smile. You deserve to smile all of the time, you know?" There wasn't an appropriate response. Instead, Kurt laughed lightly. "You don't believe that do you?" Blaine asked, glancing up under his eyelashes in a way that tugged low in Kurt's tummy.

"Blaine..."

"No Kurt!" Blaine said sharply, sitting up and grasping hold of both braces in his hands, "you don't get to do that. You have to believe me because I don't lie, do I Tom?"

The heat rising from the collar of his shirt sent Kurt spiralling. He tried to quieten Blaine but it was too late, Thomas heard and was squinting beyond a group of Songbirds. In seconds he was sitting to Blaine's side- Kurt just wanted to die of embarrassment.

"What's that, Anderson?"

"I don't lie do I?" Blaine said simply, his voice couched in an odd kind of child-like wonder, "tell Kurt I don't lie because he doesn't believe that he deserves to smile all of the time."

It was a moment of pained silence. Thomas fought with the need to laugh but knew, despite his automatic urges, that he had to suppress them for his best friend's sake. Blaine was an unique soul, one with the most sincere of expression and a heart with the purest honesty. Kurt knew it – that was obvious – but drunk Blaine seemed all too keen to splurge every inner thought upon anyone who would listen.

"B, I'm sure Kurt knows and no you don't lie. You don't hold _anything _back actually," he joked. The sarcasm was lost on an inebriated Blaine who sighed with a smile but it was spotted by Kurt- he offered Thomas a sly smile. Blaine began playing with the braces clips once more, now happily resigned in the knowledge that Kurt knew he was wanted and loved. "Just ignore this idiot, angelface, he's a clingy douchebag when he's under the influence and I'm only speaking from a single moment of past experience. He doesn't make an experience of drinking, hence the speed at which he loses all ability to think before he speaks."

Kurt chuckled lightly, glancing down at Blaine's deft fingers. He was intent on removing them but his sloppy state was a great barrier, not to mention the fact that he seemed to have been rendered deaf or was feigning ignorance.

"I've noticed."

"He only acts like this with people he's comfortable with though," Thomas offered kindly, nudging Kurt's shoulder. The small shift in Kurt's posture reminded Thomas of the way Blaine spoke so carefully in reference to his inexperience with physical contact.

Kurt settled into the back of the couch, eyes determined to avoid contact. "I'm getting used to it. I've never met anyone quiet like him."

"Oh believe me, Hummel, I doubt you'll find anyone at all. Maybe it's what he's been through in his life or it could be down to some gene defect but the boy's loyal to his core and incapable of seeing anything other than the shiny happy things in life. I guess he's had to."

Kurt coughed slightly, shuffling. Blaine's head was resting against his stomach now, his eyes closed and breathing soft. "I can understand that. Maybe I did the opposite."

"Saw the bad?" Kurt nodded gently, wrinkling his nose. "It's easy to do. Guess I did for a while. The parents didn't cause me problems like they did with Blaine, it was outside forces that toughened me up and taught me to walk tall. What you went through was tough from the limited information Blaine passed on when you first transferred."

"Neanderthal decided to go out of his way to make me suffer. He was a meat head with problems and apparently I was the perfect play toy. Anyway, I learned my fair share of comebacks and found out who my true friends were. It wasn't until I came here that I realised I hadn't smiled properly in a long time."

Thomas felt his heart sink. The kid was nice, so nice, and had been through far too much. He let his eyes fall to Blaine's head, softly balanced on Kurt's lap now.

"Well, he seems happy," he mused, smirking at Kurt and instigating the slightest of blushes. It took all of Thomas' will power to resist tweaking his cheeks – they were too pinchable.

Kurt smiled, biting his lip. He didn't want to stop watching the way Blaine's fingers were looped inside his braces, holding on. "Well, I think I'll head off and leave him in your capable hands," Thomas said simply, easing himself up without rocking the couch too much, "just a couple of things to pass on, you know, for future reference. He's a dead weight to have leaning on you when he's like this so be careful when lugging him up the stairs, he likes to break into song so stuff your hand in his mouth if he tries it on in the corridors upstairs and one last thing..." Kurt nodded, laughing lightly and crooking his eyebrow in question. "Give him a cuddle goodnight for me. If that's not too weird."

Thomas wasn't even sure why he said it but it was out before he could take it back. It was a gamble bearing in mind he was talking to Blaine's boyfriend but Kurt smiled, slow and understanding, before nodding. "I will definitely do that."

"Cheers angel face, I'll see you soon. Prom's coming up so I'll no doubt catch you then."

"It was good to see you again," Kurt called over the music, lifting his hand to wave as Thomas smiled, disappearing beyond a group of dancing bodies.

Turning his attention back to Blaine, Kurt let his fingers idly stroke the sneaky curls at the back of his ear. The touch roused Blaine a little, prompting him to shuffle closer, pushing his arms around Kurt's middle and sinking his head further into his lap.

"Blaine?" Kurt whispered, careful to speak directly into Blaine's ear over the loud music.

There was a slightly muffled response, spoken into the material of Kurt's shirt. The heat engulfed him as Blaine's arms tightened automatically, drawing their bodies together. "Yea?" Blaine asked, blinking at the light.

Kurt smiled fondly. "You fell asleep."

"Oh that's not good. Did Wes draw on my face again? Did he tie me up with my school tie?" Blaine's face contorted in sheer panic, his limbs scrambling to regain control of themselves as he sat up.

"No," Kurt said through giggles, "you just fell asleep in my lap. Thomas left but said to give you a cuddle."

"Awwwww," Blaine cooed, tilting his head in response, "so where is it?"

"I actually have to give you one?" Kurt asked cocking his eyebrow with a shockingly straight face. He had no idea how he managed to keep himself in check sometimes, especially when Blaine looked as devastatingly handsome as he did.

"Yes you do," Blaine giggled, sliding closer, "I demand one right now." He held his arms open wide and pursed his lips playfully, swaying slightly on the spot. Blaine couldn't quite lean in, knowing he'd slip and fall if he did so he waited for Kurt patiently. With a shake of his head, Kurt leaned closer, wrapping his arms around Blaine's waist and pressing his nose into the dip of Blaine's shoulder.

"You smell like cheap alcohol," Kurt spoke softly, half laughing. The vibrations of Blaine's laugh rattle down his spine sending every nerve ending firing – Kurt found himself wishing he wasn't in a room full of Warblers and slutty Songbirds.

"You smell nice. Like Kurt."

It wasn't a normal moment to find tears rushing to the surface but Kurt had finished off two drinks, careful to stay lucid and alert, and Blaine was just... adorable- to use his coined phrase.

Shuffling to lean back, Blaine smiled and winked. The alcohol in his system was responsible for the slightly odd noise that resembled a whine before he leaned in, swooping and quick, to press his lips to Kurt. Initially, Kurt felt himself tense, fully aware that at least one of the Songbirds had gasped in shock, but as Blaine's hands crept up his braces in step patterns inching closer to his neck, he melted and gave in. The soft sway of Blaine's shoulders made him dizzy. Good dizzy.

"Mmmmmm," Blaine sighed, lifting free and squinting to let Kurt's face focus. He looked pretty and so real; he was warm and close and smelled like nice things- he was everything Blaine ever wanted to wake up to forever. "I love you," he groaned out, letting his lips fall to Kurt's neck where they stopped still, the words spoken directly onto his skin, "and these braces and your shirts and cheeks and nose and hair."

Kurt breathed out, suddenly incapable of functioning properly. Blaine's fingers were so very enticing, drawing fluttering patterns over his skin in a manner so uncontrollable and so damned distracting that his brain was two steps behind. He just let himself say the first thing that came to mind. "What about my pants? You don't love my pants?"

Blaine snorted, leaning back with his hands still clasped at Kurt's shoulders. He allowed himself a moment to just look (and for Kurt's face to slot into place again), taking in every detail. As he spoke, his words slid over one another but he didn't care, Kurt was there and everything was right with the world. "No," he drawled out, leaning close so that every breath blew back in his face from Kurt's cheek, "I worship them. Especially those pants, those special ones because you think I don't notice but I do... all of the time," Kurt shuddered, well aware that his throat made an odd gurgling noise at the velvety smoothness of every word, "I just really, really, really, really," Blaine added, creeping his fingers lower down Kurt's braces gradually until they met his waistband, "want to just unclip those pins. All of them."

Kurt swallowed. It was all just too much. "Blaine..."

"Hmmm?" Kurt nearly laughed but the heat around them was enough to send him giddy. All he could do was stare directly into Blaine's eyes. They were dilated but still the same bright, true eyes he'd grown so accustomed to focusing on when he required confirmation that he had someone he could trust.

"Maybe this isn't the best place," Kurt groaned, feeling his skin shudder. He really didn't want to be putting Blaine off from saying all of those lovely things but they had an audience – it was verging on the obscene.

Blaine settled himself against Kurt's chest, staring him straight in the face. "I don't care if people stare because I know they're just jealous," Blaine drawled, "and they wish they looked like you in those pants. They wish they were those pants. In fact I wish I was those pants. Do you know what I mean?"

"Blaine Anderson, I swear to god," Kurt all but squeaked, "you need to stop talking right now."

"Why? Do you not understand me? I'm trying to explain," he tried, sitting up straight with a frown. It was endearing the way that Blaine believed his words were appropriate for a packed room full of their friends and a whole host of girls they didn't really know. Still, Kurt found himself caught in a quandary – let Blaine carry on speaking and succumb to the blissful realisation that his boyfriend found him attractive or push him to stop and begin the rather unappealing ascent to the dorms where he had no means of distracting Blaine from the inevitable.

"I understand you but you need to stop because people are watching."

"Oh let them watch," Blaine huffed, pressing a kiss to Kurt's nose, "I'm sick of people judging. I just want to kiss you, is that so horrible and awful? Does this feel sick and twisted to you?"

Kurt sighed affectionately, sensing the emotion in Blaine's voice immediately. It was definitely time for weepy drunk Blaine. "No it's not sick and twisted in the slightest, Blaine," he explained simply, emphasising every word, "it's actually very, very nice but it's not the time or the place."

"I love kissing you though and it's hard to stop it when I want to because you always smell nice and you just look at me and I can't think straight. You do all of these things that make me want to so it's just hard. Nobody ever kissed me like you. Nobody ever looked at me like you do. Nobody makes me feel like you do and it's just so amazing... like magic," he whined, falling forward and snuffling his nose at Kurt's shirt collar.

Kurt's heart clenched. Never in his life did he expect someone to say such things to him with the amount of sincerity with which Blaine spoke. He meant every single syllable despite being drunk. Kurt found himself independent of thought and fused with an enormous amount of want and love. It wasn't a normal feeling for him, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it took over in a heartbeat. He kissed the side of Blaine's head, teasing his hands from the death grip around his braces. "Come with me upstairs," Kurt whispered low and straight into Blaine's ear.

The blinking mess of limbs and smiles that was Blaine Anderson seemed to temporarily regain some semblance of alertness and followed Kurt briskly from the room. Half way down the hall, he felt the ground wobble and sway like the fairground rides he'd frequented during his Summer holidays. "Kurt I feel dizzy," he stammered, clutching at thin air, "Kurt?"

They stopped in the darkness. Kurt threaded his arm around Blaine's waist and held him firmly as they began to climb the stairs. "You ok?" he asked, smirking sideways. He was met with two shining eyes and a beaming toothy grin.

"Do you think I'm good looking?" Blaine asked randomly, his brow now knitted with intense thought. It was the very mark of the effect of alcohol, which Kurt was rapidly learning. Whatever thought, however fleeting, passed through Blaine's mind was making itself known on the tip of his tongue. It seemed that honesty wasn't only a characteristic of sober Blaine.

"Of course I do," Kurt said, laughing at the sheer weight of pulling another person up the stairs, "why are you asking me this?"

Blaine groaned, flopping his arm by his side. "It's just you have those eyes and those legs and Thomas is all blonde and muscles and I'm just... just short and curly. Did God just run out of things to give me?"

Kurt began to laugh, infectious and impossible to squash. "First of all, Blaine, I don't think God's the one you need to blame. Blame your parents' genes," Blaine growled with frustration, "and secondly, you may be short and have all of that hair that you insist on covering with all of that grease but what about your eyelashes and smile and hands and arms and eyes and the fact that when you don't slap the grease on it, your hair is to die for?"

Blaine swooned, his smile spreading wider and wider leading right up to his eyes. "You think I'm pretty?"

With a roll of his eyes, Kurt sighed heavily. "Even without any make up on, idiot."

As they pushed their way into Blaine's room, Kurt spotted the sliver of light at the end of the corridor – the Rec room - where the three adults seemingly responsible for the madness down below were no doubt oblivious. He shushed Blaine's laughter as they almost fell in the door.

As Kurt closed it with a barely audible click, he turned to lean his back against the door and watched as Blaine sat on his bed, slipping his shoes off. His heart was racing. He'd spent many a night wondering what other people his age did at parties and how they felt when they were faced with moments not dissimilar to the one he found himself in; however, nothing prepared him for the fact he was shut tight in a room with his boyfriend who was entirely smitten and very adept at running his hands where they shouldn't go.

"Blaine?" he asked, before his brain had the chance to stop him.

A pair of bright hazel eyes found him in the darkness. "Why are you so far away? I miss you already."

Kurt's fingertips were pulsating, his heart hammering blood at a rate he wasn't sure was healthy. _Could he be having a heart attack?_ "I'm here. I just want to check that you're ok."

"I'm happy you're here," he sang, lying back on his bed, drowned in duvet, "in my room, with me." As Blaine began to hum a tune he couldn't place, Kurt edged forward and sat, quite stiffly, by Blaine's side. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable, that wasn't it, he was simply nervous and unsure.

"Can I kiss you?" Blaine asked suddenly, propped up on his elbows with a nervous smile. Immediately, Kurt's anxiety waned at the prospect that Blaine wasn't the only one who was a little tense.

"Yes," Kurt replied, taking a breath and asserting some confidence. He felt his skin shiver with warmth.

Soft and lazy lips found their way to the back of his neck causing a feeling so concentrated and powerful that his breath caught in his throat. Kurt felt his eyes drift closed against his now flushed cheek, a stuttered breath falling from his lips. He turned, pressing himself closer to Blaine, his eyes rolling back at the way it felt to mould his own body against another's. It didn't feel close enough though. In the silence of Blaine's dorm, Kurt could hear is own breathing, the tiny gasps he made at every shift in movement and every single noise that Blaine was making so easily and without the slightest concern.

"Kurt, you're shivering, are you cold?" Blaine asked against his lips, his breath ragged and slightly higher than usual.

Kurt blinked, leaning back. "I'm ... um... I'm just a little um-"

As if Blaine could read his mind, he smirked and leaned close once more, keen to keep his lips in constant contact with at least one part of Kurt's body at a time. It was like nuclear fission, the electric current running wild along the planes of his limbs as Blaine's arms slid up against his chest and wrapped themselves around his neck, drawing him down and back into the pile of cushions at the head of the bed. Kurt felt his entire body give in without a moment's thought. It shocked him momentarily but as Blaine's leg slid over the top of his, tugging him tight, it was all he could do to remember his own name.

He gasped into Blaine's mouth, drawing his face closer with each and every kiss. Messily, they fell to the side, clasping for each other and finding each other in a second. Kurt's back arched as he felt Blaine's hands slide down his braces and begin unbuttoning his shirt.

"Kurt?" Blaine breathed roughly, "Kurt we need to talk about so many things. We need to be very sensible and we need to do things the right way. You need to know."

"What things?"

"Everything," Blaine breathed out, slipping his hand under the hem of Kurt's shirt and splaying his fingers wide as he pulled them together. He smiled lazily, feeling the goose bumps over Kurt's skin.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked, lost entirely in the touch of warm hands all over him. It was as if he lost all grip on reality, his mind sliding free of any rational thought.

"We're special. We need to be special, I mean we need to do things because we're special, right?"

"Blaine. Shut up."

"No, we need to talk about feelings and serious things because it's right. I don't want to pressure you or steal from you or rob you."

Kurt sighed, almost choking back a laugh. "Steal? Blaine what are you talking about?" he asked, suddenly slap bang back in reality. He wriggled free, sitting up with his shirt hanging off his shoulder. It didn't occur to him to adjust it, instead just staring into Blaine's wide eyes.

"Oh god I'm not very good at this. I knew I wouldn't be," Blaine groaned, falling forward to rest his head in Kurt's lap. His fingers sought out Kurt's and wrapped themselves up, holding on tight. He sat back up and took a breath. "I mean sex. That's what I mean. There you go."

Kurt was sure he'd stopped breathing. He thanked the dwarf on the dark side of the moon for the fact that Blaine was steadying his hands as he was sure they'd have shook uncontrollably. "Blaine-"

"No no no no no don't say anything. We can't do it now. It's not right. I can't see you properly and I need to be able to see you because it's important."

"Ok," Kurt asserted, smiling dreamily. He was sure he had the most perfect boyfriend in the world. "Um, well, what now?"

Blaine laughed, pushing Kurt back into the pillows and climbing over his lap so that both knees held Kurt's hips in place. "I think I drank a little too much."

Kurt bit his lip, a smirk toying at his lips. "Obviously."

"I am still me though," he said sweetly, smiling in the most earnest way, his eyes crinkling.

"I know," Kurt whispered. He shocked himself as his hands grabbed the front of Blaine's sweater, bringing him closer in a millisecond. "I like you that way." His lips sought Blaine's and pressed hard and insistent as they rolled to the side in a tangle of legs and arms. Kurt gave up. The nerves that had crackled at his brain at the beginning of the night and as they'd fallen into Blaine's room were gone; he had a boyfriend who, even in a tipsy state, was too brilliant for words. Yes, he was incapable of keeping his hands to himself and was insistent upon kissing till his lips turned numb but Kurt was hardly going to complain about _that. _

"Kurt-"

"Shhhhhh," he urged, pressing his chest securely into Blaine's arms, his hand fisting into Blaine's messy hair with complete abandon, "we can talk tomorrow. We'll do lots of talking tomorrow."

* * *

_**Please don't think it ends there... it doesn't. There is more to come with this section...**_

_**WHY HELLO! My god, I'm so late in posting this Chapter. I feel awful BUT I have a very very good reason. My first set of exams are over now but they have been horrible and insistent for the past few weeks which had meant late nights in the library and a VERY stressed me! I have a couple of weeks of lazy revision so can write on a night as a break... THEREFORE, I do promise better updates. I can only apologise for the sheer LACK of them over the past few weeks.**_

_**Before I even begin – EVERYONE MUST SEE THE PICTURE OF DARREN WITH ARMIE HAMMER. I thought I'd seen every photo from that event but NO... I saw it a week or so back and nearly had a fit. The one with Chord cut out (no offence to the lovely Chord but it's better if he's not there for the purposes of this story!) made me RIDICULOUSLY happy. The height difference and general hobbit size of Darren compared to Armie is just EXACTLY how I see Blaine/Thomas and the fact that they're simply TOGETHER in the same photography honestly blew my mind. GO SEE IT!**_

_**I've got a few things to mention...**_

_**FIRSTLY – PLEASE go see my profile for the AMAZING picture raven-meadowes sent me today. She made a shot of Thomas, which, I swear, made me squeal! It's GLORIOUS. Also, I have been asked if people minded making fan art of this story – ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Good god, please do, it'd make me INSANELY happy.**_

_**SECONDLY – I wrote another one-shot "It's All Fiction", which I felt very nervous about posting but it's a definitely different feel to TLT. It was a response to the scene in "Sexy" in Kurt's bedroom. That scene meant so much to me for MANY reasons and I think I wrote what I wanted to in that one-shot. I went with the feel of THIS story and the idea that Kurt has passed MANY of the boundaries in TLT that he HAS yet to pass in canon, therefore, sex isn't AS terrifying to him as it is currently on the show but it's still an ISSUE. I intend to deal with it, just incase people worried I'd turned Kurt into something he's not!**_

_**THIRDLY – BURT SAID MECHANICS. Sorry, it just made me giggle how I wrote Blaine to say it in Chapter 36 and then Burt said it in his glorious sex talk. That scene was amazing. Gosh I love Burt.**_

_**FOURTHLY – THE KISS. I HAVE NO WORDS FOR THE WONDER AND BEAUTY OF THAT SCENE AND ENTIRE EPISODE. Darren is always more of a musician to me as that's what I knew him as first but he shocked me and left me awe struck as his beautiful performance. It was exceptional and so moving. The tiny nuances of that scene are what make it GORGEOUS. Chris, as always played Kurt to utter perfection. Oh I can barely watch it without sighing happily that OUR KURT has a boyfriend and someone who truly WANTS to touch him, kiss him and spend time with him. *sigh***_

_**THEY ARE DOING PROM. I don't think I need to voice my sheer excitement- really? I don't! EEK!**_

_**SO much has happened since I last posted, as it always does, but I just CANNOT wait to see what the end of the hiatus brings... so bloomin' long isn't it?**_

_**THANK YOU SO SO SO much for ALL of the continual messages and comments... STILL! I've been writing this thing since November before we even knew if Blaine was sticking around and people are STILL leaving me the nicest messages...! I am so truly grateful and forever speechless at the response this story has had. I can't even say how much your kind words mean to me. So, on that note, I'll go off to work on Chapter 38 *wink***_


	38. Change of Circumstances

_**I'm keeping this short because it's been FAR too long since I updated!  
My MAIN and HORRIFIC (seriously, that word doesn't even come CLOSE to covering it) exams are out of the way. I almost lost my sanity, I barely ate, I slept about two hours per evening and could have jumped from my balcony from the stress (not that I'm dramatic at all) but that's my reason for not updating for a stupidly long time.  
Seriously, NEVER train to be a lawyer/barrister, unless you want to keep your social life, wits and general LIFE! Haha.**_

_**So sorry for keeping you all waiting. Heads up, this is NOT all I'm posting. This is a self contained chapter and another will be up tonight. I wanted to end this one here. It's a LITTLE bit of a filler Chapter but I had to get this in before the next one – twas important : )  
I'll be back later with Chapter 39.**_

_**Please enjoy :D**_

* * *

"Kurt?"

Blaine had been whispering it for around five minutes now but Kurt was dead to the world, sprawled out on his side with his arm slung around Blaine's waist. It was the deepest Blaine had ever seen him sleep so, after a while, he gave up in order to simply watch and memorise. It was a habit now and one which he hoped he would never give up.

Waking up had been interesting. The room was like a spinning tea cup, his wardrobe morphed into a whirlpool, the floor was shaking and the glass in the windows turned to orbs before flattening out once more – teasing him. It was as if he'd chewed on carpet for a day as his mouth felt rough and tasted like hell. The memory was still there though, just.

That was the bad part. He'd only been tipsy – ok, drunk – twice before. The first time had been with kids in school when he'd tried to fit in. He'd been grounded and that was that but the second time was when Thomas was still a student so he hadn't felt as scared and out of control then – he had someone to look after him. It wasn't as if he'd _tried _to get drunk this time but he was sure the damn punch wasn't comprised of what was advertised by Wes and David. So much for them being responsible.

He could remember a lot of evening including the duet with Thomas, plastering himself over Thomas' shoulder and telling him exactly what he'd do to Harry if he ever hurt Thomas in the future; he remembered lying on Kurt, playing with Kurt's clothes, kissing Kurt – as if he'd forget that – and saying stupid stuff but it was the end of the night that was blurry. A vague sickness took hold in his stomach as he shifted on his side, closing his eyes tight. He felt his skin wash cool, his eyes flash white and within seconds he hit his bathroom and threw up.

The feeling was raw and disgusting, something he really could have done without, but the strange after effects meant his eyes focused once more, stomach calming instantly. He was cold though, shivering rapidly, so he sat on the floor, resting his head on the wall and took deep and regulated breaths.

"Blaine? Blaine, are you ok?"

"K-Kurt?"

The door opened slowly, light filtering in immediately even though the morning was cloudy and overcast. Kurt's head peeked around the door frame, worried and cautious at what he'd find.

"Oh dear god," he sighed, pursing his lips. Kurt was sleepy, that was certain, but nothing was better at rousing a person than the noise of someone emptying their insides. It would have been horrifically disgusting had it been anyone else but as it was Blaine... well, it simply sparked his latent need to care and protect.

"I don't feel good," Blaine groaned, his head tilted back and eyes squinting. Kurt sighed, closing the door and placed one of Blaine's wash cloths under the cold faucet.

"It's all self inflicted, you know?" Kurt teased, bending down in front of Blaine and placing the wet cloth across his brow. "But as it's you and as it appears I can't resist you, even when you're horribly ill, I'll make an exception."

"You're an angel," Blaine whispered, his lips weak.

"An angel I may be," Kurt laughed lightly, softly wiping cool lines down Blaine's cheek, "but don't expect this to become a habit. Next time I'll leave you to the toilet bowl and your own devices. My constitution doesn't do well with sickness."

Blaine groaned once more, falling to curl into Kurt's side heavily. Kurt felt arms cling to his waist almost desperately. "I'm sorry I'm a mess and I'm sorry for anything I did last night that was embarrassing, ridiculous, stupid or inappropriate."

With a squeeze to Blaine's side, Kurt let go and allowed his fingers to smooth back the hair sticking up in every direction. Blaine was a mess, granted, but somehow he happened to be an adorable mess. "You weren't too bad," Kurt soothed, resting his head against Blaine's, his hand still idly stroking at the nape of Blaine's neck, "but it's safe to say you like to talk."

With a chesty groan, Blaine sunk forward, closing his eyes. "I don't want to know what I said. I might just die."

"And here's me so sure I'm the drama queen in this relationship," Kurt quipped, laughing lightly. He smiled as he watched the corners of Blaine's lips quirk slightly.

"This relationship," Blaine whispered, lifting one hand from his face in order to peek at Kurt, "how weird does that sound?"

Kurt bit his lip. "Very weird."

In the small echoing bathroom, the noise of their breathing was loud against the silence and it lasted in this way for a short while. Kurt sighed, leaning back into Blaine, registering the lack of required interaction. They were at that point where silence was just so easy.

"So," Blaine said eventually, breaking the quiet, "once I stop feeling like I'm minutes away from death, I thought I'd finish up with some homework and we could do something."

Kurt lifted an eyebrow questioningly. "What did you have in mind?"

"I have no idea," Blaine laughed, frowning deeply.

With a jolt and flurry of limbs, Kurt lifted himself to stand causing Blaine to sway a little at the lost contact. "Ok, I'm planning our afternoon."

"Wow. Ok," Blaine replied, half laughing, "so what are we going to do?"

"Leave all of that to me and just you focus on the not throwing up so you don't embarrass me in public because, let's face it, nobody likes a sick boyfriend."

Blaine spat out a laugh, his head jolting in pain immediately. Kurt definitely had a way with words but despite the fact he felt like death warmed up, he couldn't help but love when Kurt got snappy. "Now, now, I'm actually really and truly ill."

Kurt pursed his lips and tugged open the door. With it half open, he leaned back with a wide smile. "Self infliction is no excuse. Get to it and be presentable by two o'clock."

As the door closed, Blaine felt his body give in and head hit the hard, white enamel of the sink. He closed his eyes but not without the hint of an amused smile at the fact that he had a boyfriend who took no nonsense.

An hour later, mid way through the painful process of attempting to read written words as they swam on the page, he regretted his earlier clever statement. He had a boyfriend who was always so damn right and it wasn't fair.

* * *

Kurt was humming to himself. It wasn't even a tune he knew but for some reason it came freely and with so much added happiness, he had to keep taking regular deep breaths to steady himself. Finn had called and they'd had a catch up. It'd become a 'thing' for them and Kurt, still slightly adjusting to having a brother and that brother being Finn Hudson, was secretly so pleased they'd reached a position when they did really quite stereotypical brotherly things. All was just as cluttered and complex back at McKinley it seemed. Quinn was a definite part of his brother's life again and Kurt, although holding a respect for Ms Fabray's confidence and utter ruthlessness, couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable about their reunion. It seemed like their incestuous Glee club had only grown worse since he'd left but, regardless of their ridiculous drama, Kurt smiled and wished for a brief second that he was back there with them, if only to gloat and smile with superiority at his ability to hold a perfectly functioning relationship. That aside, life felt good and shiny – the clouds had begun to part and the sun was beginning to shine.

Dropping a cardigan into his bag, he slotted his charged iPod alongside a large navy blue fluffy blanket and picked up the basket he'd packed earlier. Isla had appeared in the kitchens wearing large sunglasses and pouring coffee – it had clearly been a rough night on her home brew but it worked for Kurt as he was able to get his own way entirely. He'd even taken two slices of cake from the evening desert selection. Dalton didn't have CCTV (they barely had central heating), he was stealth enough to check.

Kurt swung the basket happily, skipping over his Doc Marten's as he rounded the corner to Blaine's room. It was something he'd always wanted to do – picnic in a park with a boyfriend – but, as always, it was forever out of reach. They did it in movies, feeding each other strawberries, sipping sparkling cider and reading poetry to each other under a looming tree. Kurt laughed to himself, shaking his head – they truly were pretty well suited to one another as Blaine was almost as soppy as he was.

"Have you recovered?" Kurt called through the gap in Blaine's door, unsure if he should just barge in and interrupt in case Blaine was changing.

"Come in," Blaine called.

As the door swung open, Kurt bit his lip to suppress a soppy grin. He hadn't seen Blaine in summery clothes. Kurt had opted for his trademark skin-tight jeans in a dark emerald, his tall black boots and a green patterned shirt, buttoned high with a cravat – the scarf was dotted with tiny white birds, something which Kurt found too adorable to resist.

Blaine looked... surprising. His hair was still in its usual case of gel even if there did seem to be a little less today; the short sleeved grey t-shirt and jeans were rather plain but the pillar box red cardigan slung over his arm was not, at all. It brought out his dark features, especially his eyes, and made him look incredible.

"I'm alive," Blaine said simply, smirking as he slid his phone into the pocket of his jeans, his movements softer than usual, "and the weather is on our side for whatever you have-"

He stopped, his eyes finding the wooden basket in Kurt's hand.

"I thought a picnic would be fun." Kurt shuffled a little, ducking to take in the look in Blaine's eyes, "but if it's not your thing then we can just-"

Blaine rushed forward, dropping his sweater , and kissed Kurt surely. Neither moved or even breathed. Blaine laughed lightly against Kurt's lips, his hands slotting to Kurt's waist immediately. "It's definitely my thing."

"Good, because even if it wasn't, you'd still be coming," Kurt bit playfully, still reeling a little. Blaine's kisses were nothing short of insistent - 'purposeful' could be his middle name.

"So demanding," Blaine sighed, shrugging on his cardigan.

"Tip of the iceberg," Kurt winked.

With a swipe to his shirt to flatten out any creases, Kurt watched as Blaine fished in his drawer and pulled out a pile of letters.

"I picked these up for you when I went down this morning."

Frowning, Kurt mapped the handwriting and postal mark before slotting them into his canvas bag. "Thank you, I'll have a look at them later."

"Ready, sweetie?" Blaine asked, grinning from ear to ear and smirking to boot.

"Sweetie?" Kurt snapped, frowning with horrified eyes, "Never," he breathed, pulling Blaine's cardigan panels together and looping the top button closed, "ever," he pursed his lips with a shake of his head, "call me that again."

Giggling, Blaine slid past him and whistled down the hall. Kurt groaned, rolling his eyes – their day was sure to be as interesting as ever.

* * *

Standing in the sun as Blaine took a few moments to pull his car out the confine of the gates, Kurt tugged the letters from his bag and opened the one he wasn't expecting. He knew Carole sent him a fortnightly update on life in the Hummel-Hudson residence, mainly focused upon reassuring him that his father was healthy and keeping him abreast of any Finn developments. He expected these letters and was also waiting for his magazine subscription invoice but the writing on the first envelope was messy and unkempt- it wasn't anything he recognised.

He tugged the thick regulation paper out and noticed that a thinner and cheaper piece of paper was clipped to the back. He read the headed section and found himself clutching tighter. As he reached the bottom, he slid his fingers under and read the attached note. It was long and rambling, scrawled messily with even a few smudges but the crux of the meaning behind the words was there and utterly painful to read. He frowned, feeling anger bubble and burn, his jaw tightening and stomach dropping a thousand feet.

_He hadn't expected anything like that._

Just as he tucked the letter back inside his bag, Blaine pulled up, throwing open the door for him and beaming brightly behind his shades. "If I had a convertible, you could relive your Grace Kelly fantasy," Blaine said happily, taking Kurt's bags and placing them on the backseat, "it's just that kind of day!"

"I don't have a head scarf," Kurt deadpanned, settling himself into his seat, "let's go for the 'less wind is better' idea, huh?" He pushed his large and square glasses up to rest on his nose with a curt nod. Blaine just laughed. _Damn him._

As they pulled out of Dalton's grounds, Kurt took a deep breath, pushing anything and everything from his mind that didn't somehow connect to his plans to make their day as perfect as possible. He fought the tug of anxiety in the pit of his stomach and focused on the slight sliver of warm air on his face from the half open window and closed his eyes, listening to Blaine hum along to the radio.


	39. Cotton and Grass, Ice Cream and Flowers

**I can only offer pretty moments, lots of lovely honesty and a dash of happiness as repayment for keeping you guys waiting for so long.**

**My work is SO spontaneous and I have to expect things to change at ANY time and it all came at once - so much law, so little time. I hope you like this Chapter. It's a personal favourite : )**

**I only have a couple left. We have Dalton's Prom, and 3 more, I think. I'm going to write an epilogue too as I think this story needs it.**

**Also - I've also started my Summer project. In between travelling, working, volunteering, seeing my friends and family after farrrr toooo long and generally enjoying Summer, I need to have other things to focus on. I have a pile of books, knitting projects, gigs (Glee Live and Mr Darren Criss live in London- the excitement is ridiculous) and day trips ... AND I decided to do something I've wanted to do for a LONG time. I LOVE epistolary fiction and have ALWAYS wanted to write in that format... It's going to be part epistolary (letters) and part narrative and it's called Wild Horses. I'm posting it on my LJ (same username - feel free to add if you should wish) and here too. I'm stupidly excited to be writing something like it and decided I may as well use Kurt and Blaine instead of it being original fiction. I can always adapt in the future.**

**Thank you all for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy this Chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it :)**

* * *

"Hey, where were you just then?" Blaine asked, nudging Kurt's shoulder gently. The air, warm and balmy, made any movement a little slower, a little more languid and lazy.

Kurt was content. He was happy and, above all, he was with Blaine. He still somehow couldn't twist his brain into gear. It was intent upon focusing on the only thing it shouldn't at a moment when Blaine and sunshine and ice cream and picnic blanket cuddles should have taken top priority.

He blinked, smiling a little. "Sorry. Another world."

"Well," Blaine said, dragging the word out slightly with a knowing smile, "how about I go get us an ice cream?"

Kurt's eyes widened instantly. "The calories."

Before Kurt could say another word, Blaine was up on his feet and walking backwards. The smirk he was sporting was unmistakably flirty. "I'm sorry. I can't hear you. What did you say? Something like 'yes, Blaine I'd love the biggest ice cream they sell'. Well, if you say so!"

There was nothing to do but smile. Kurt watched as Blaine sauntered off, a little more spritely than he was sure he'd ever seen him. They'd chosen a lovely spot – much like a scene from a movie - which Kurt appreciated. Blaine had all but gasped as he'd spotted the tree, meaning, in seconds, they were set up under it. Kurt hadn't quite been able to get the image of he and Blaine cuddled against it out of his mind – it was too picture perfect to resist.

Kurt swallowed a giggle watching Blaine struggle to carry both ice creams and his wallet. The ice cream was sliding down his hand. "Kurt! Help."

Scrambling to his feet, careful to avoid grass stains, Kurt walked sedately towards Blaine, stopping just before him. "Whatever is the matter?" he asked with raised eyebrows and not a single shred of urgency.

"Don't you dare," Blaine accused, pursing his lips, "this is not a time to be clever, Kurt."

"Oh I think this is a perfect time."

"Kurt, come on," Blaine whined, his eyes wide and flicking from Kurt's face to the white lines dribbling down his wrists, "I'll feed you strawberries or I'll sing you something as you fall asleep in the sun or I'll even do your laundry for a month. Just stop the sticky mess."

Not one to resist Blaine's more romantic side, Kurt grinned haughtily. "This is only because you know just how to push my buttons." He rolled his eyes and reached down, prising Blaine's fingers from one of the cones. As he did, the moment seemed to hit him oddly and with an intensity he wasn't ready for. Blaine's hands were warm and soft; he was being treated to a day in the sun with his _boyfriend_ who just happened to be the sweetest boy in the world and who looked the very picture of handsome.

Without thinking and just as Blaine tried to catch the drips with his tongue, Kurt lifted Blaine's arm gently and kissed his wrist, his lips dragging only slightly to catch the drips. Blaine froze. "And what may I ask are you doing?"

Kurt shrugged innocently, turning a little pink. "Helping."

Blaine bit his lip but still didn't move. Kurt continued, kissing away the trails of ice cream and even daring to use his tongue when it was appropriate, which, in public, it truly wasn't. As he finished, he pulled a high thread handkerchief from his pocket, prompting Blaine to choke out a laugh, and wiped the residue away.

Blaine wasn't sure he could move. They would have _the _talk soon but just watching Kurt do... _that_ was an incentive to hurry it up. "You did that on purpose," Blaine urged, smirking.

With a beaming smile, Kurt shrugged, sliding his arm into Blaine's. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't, but you have to understand, Blaine Anderson, that I'm pretty good at getting my own way. Surely you must have learned that by now?"

* * *

The breeze was minimal and as early afternoon hit, the sun was strong. Blaine had pulled the blanket closer to the tree to catch the shade and keep Kurt out of the glare.

The park was vast, wide expanses of lawn and a multitude of trees were scattered at random intervals and as the sun had brought families out in their abundance, the park was littered with picnic blankets and ball games. Kurt sighed, leaning back onto Blaine's shoulder, warm and wrapped in the humidity.

"You're too quiet," Blaine whispered suddenly, lowering his lips to Kurt's ear. The vibrations made Kurt shudder. "What are you thinking?"

Smiling, Kurt let his right hand idly play with a button on Blaine's cardigan. "Lots of things. Why?"

Blaine took a deep breath. "Care to run a few by me?"

It was worrying – not being able to read Kurt. It was usually so simple, his eyes reflecting back whatever complex emotion he held inside, but there were times when those eyes were shrouded and entirely unreadable. Blaine knew it was because Kurt tried so hard to make it so.

"Well, for a start, that guy should really pull up his pants."

Blaine glanced over, his eyes catching a sight he really didn't wish to see. The giggle that escaped was too difficult to hold in. Kurt smiled into Blaine's chest, feeling the rumble of laughter.

"Anything else?" Blaine asked, still chuckling but choosing to press his hand a little firmer against Kurt's hip. The response was nice – snuggly Kurt was hard to time but when he came along, Blaine made the most of it.

"Nothing else. Except maybe the fact it's too hot to think, those flowers are pretty and you smell nice."

Kurt knew he was keeping it inside. Secrets weren't ideal and they certainly weren't something he wanted for _them _but he had to learn more before burdening Blaine with an event that may never come. He had to be sure.

A small dog with a frantic tail bounded past them, bending to bite hold of his ball before running off towards a small boy in green. Blaine smiled to himself. It felt nice to just... be. It felt equally as nice to sit with Kurt so close to him and entirely unaware of how much of an effect that still had on him. Kurt's hair looked sprinkled with auburn in the sunlight, his eyes closing every few seconds upon a contented sigh. Kurt wasn't one to do this. He liked the closeness, yes, but he wasn't clingy or smothering in the way Blaine was sure he'd be, given the chance. He still shocked himself, even now, even after being with Kurt and having someone to pull near and kiss that each time it felt like a first.

It was now or never. If he was ever going to have the courage to just be open and frank with his own boyfriend it was a moment so pure in its silence and comfort as the very present. Nobody sat near, nobody so much as blinked in their direction and the setting was perfect – natural, quiet and sweet.

"Can we talk about what we said we'd talk about?"

With a quick gasp of breath, Blaine watched as Kurt pressed his nose into the sleeve of his cardigan, smiling slightly. "In public? Really, Blaine?"

"Yes, really," he laughed out, tickling Kurt's side playfully. Squirming, Kurt batted Blaine's chest, flashing him a look of pure astonishment.

"Nobody has ever tickled me before! How dare you!"

Blaine didn't move. He just grinned, huge and bright, letting his eyes flash with a playful spark. "First time for everything," he drawled, leaning in to press a soft kiss against Kurt's lips. The shivers up his spine spoke enough of the sheer _depth _of everything he felt with Kurt. He was sure no-one else could make his head reel in quite the same way.

"Ok," Kurt said suddenly, drawing himself back and sitting upright, "let's do this. I can't believe I'm saying it but let's talk about it."

Positioning himself in front of Kurt, their knees skimming together as they crossed their legs, Blaine tangled his right hand with Kurt's and smiled, hoping it was reassuring enough. He was sure his skin was going to flood red at any second but he kept his eyes resolute and watched the tiny flickers in the blue of Kurt's eyes and the pink spot high on his cheeks.

"Me first?"

"You first," Kurt said simply, his voice sure and clear – a sure sign he was trying hard.

"Ok," Blaine sighed, "I don't know what to say really. I just wanted us to talk about everything... together," he added with emphasis, watching the corners of Kurt's lips twitch into a tiny smile, "because I know some kids our age don't take it seriously but I know that kind of thing changes everything and a lot of the time in a bad way. I don't want that to be us."

The soft breeze dusted Kurt's cheek causing him to shudder. Blaine was _something else. _Not only was he sweet and thoughtful but even when he was over the top and monstrously inappropriate with timing and expression, he always meant well. Regardless of the fact he could feel his heart beating in his fingertips through fear alone of the sheer enormity of the conversation, Kurt knew Blaine wasn't going to laugh, he was going to listen.

"Ok."

Blaine let out a breathy laugh, raking a hand through his hair. His face began to blush as he stumbled over the first few syllables.

"I want to, obviously," he admitted, biting his lip, "but it's ok if you don't or don't want to yet and if you don't want to _at all_ then that's ok too but we can talk about why and what we can do because, well, maybe you just need to talk about it or something."

"You are ridiculous," Kurt said simply, cocking his head to the side with a smirk. The heat radiating from his face was intense but that still didn't stop his heart hammering out of a scary mixture of fear and fondness.

"I know. It's a problem," Blaine admitted on a laugh. He let his eyes lock with Kurt's expecting the words to come to him a little more eloquently than before. "Why are you with me?"

Glancing under his eyelashes, Kurt licked his lips and took in a long slow breath, his eyes travelling the length of Blaine's body. "Because you resemble a young Marlon Brando."

"Oh, so not for shallow reasons at all?" Blaine chuckled, his cheeks burning. The very fact that they were so exposed and in the middle of suburban laziness felt _right _somehow. It was a huge topic with enormous consequences and they were _laughing_. Blaine closed his eyes momentarily, praising whichever God he hadn't even thought existed for the sheer messy perfection of the moment.

"I never lie, Blaine."

Silence took hold for a moment in which Blaine kept his hand tangled with Kurt's. After a moment, he shifted slightly and, with a smile, began.

"How do you feel about it?"

Shivering, Kurt rubbed his lips together in thought. "Different to the way I used to."

"In a good way?"

He smiled softly, only wavering from nerves for a moment. "In a good way."

"We can really plan and make it as, um, well ... make it special. It should be." It was at these words that Kurt stiffened, his back turning rigid. Blaine sensed it through his fingers but kept his eyes on Kurt's wrinkling brow. "What is it? Kurt?"

"No planning."

Words didn't come quickly. Watching Kurt's eyes focus on anything but his own, Blaine felt the panic set in. He wasn't doing it right or it was too much or too little. "Kurt, I need you to talk to me too because I don't know what I'm doing here."

Slowly and with anxious eyes, Kurt looked up. "I don't want to make a big deal out of it. No planning or hideous rose petal beds. In fact, I think it should just _happen. _If I see a single rose petal, I might just die. Ok? None."

He was half laughing.

"No petals."

"No soft music either. Please, no."

"Would you prefer heavy metal?" Blaine asked, eyes sparkling with humour.

"No music, Blaine. None. If I even hear a single note of classical melody and not to mention Marvin Gaye or anything as horribly cliché, I'm gone. Deal?"

"Deal. What about lighting?"

Kurt began to laugh softly, his hands shaking. He glanced down to hide his cheeks just as Blaine glanced down to catch them, following his every movement.

"If there are scented candles, I'll burn your blazer."

Stifling a laugh, Blaine planted on his best game face and feigned innocence. "You wouldn't touch it. Kurt Hummel, taking a naked flame to clothing? Never."

"Oh Blaine," Kurt began in a tone laced with mocking; "I don't joke about such things. Nothing cliché. Nothing tacky. Nothing so over the top I'll want to gouge my eyes out. I like romance, yes, but _that stuff _isn't romantic... it's expected."

"So you want it to be... _unexpected?" _Something in Blaine's stomach ached to just wrap himself around Kurt and squeeze him tight. He had expected so much but _this - n_ot at all.

"Yes."

"Shall I hide in your closet and pounce on you late at night?"

Kurt pursed his lips and just stared. It took seconds for him to break and begin to laugh, swatting Blaine with his free hand. "Let's just say that I wouldn't put it past you."

"Close your eyes."

It was sudden. Kurt blinked a couple of times, his heart still hammering violently. Shudders ran along his shoulders and down to his fingers where they shifted in Blaine's grasp. "Why?"

"Kurt," Blaine urged softly, "close them."

He obeyed, sighing softly as a gentle thumb rubbed the back of his hand. "Ok, tell me what you want."

"If this is some perverted way for you to hear me talk dirty then you're going to be sorely disappointed, Blaine."

Chuckling, Blaine kept his grip tight. "No, I don't mean tell me _that, _we can cross that bridge when we come to it. I just mean, what do you see when you think about it?"

"Again, Blaine," Kurt snapped, his face startled even though his eyes remained closed, "not going to happen. I'm going to need some help here."

"Kurt, just try." He tried to keep his voice couched in firmness. Kurt wasn't going to budge, he wasn't going to break out in in-depth sexual fantasies, nor did he seem entirely close off to the situation – he was just very _very_ nervous and there was absolutely nothing stopping him from bolting at any moment.

"I don't know what you want me to say. I know... _what _goes, um, _where_ but I... I don't really like to think about it."

Blaine began to laugh, his stomach convulsing manically in giggles as he lifted Kurt's hand up and pressed a kiss to its palm. "Not the... mechanics, Kurt. I meant, how do you feel? What do you see? Where are you? What frightens you? What doesn't frighten you?"

"You're there."

The laughing began again. Blaine could barely stop it to the point that he couldn't look at Kurt's face, his eyelashes splayed out on his cheeks so daintily and his lip caught between his teeth in thought. So distracting. So beautifully honest.

"Well, I'd hope I'd be there."

"Blaine. I'm leaving in three seconds flat if we don't change the subject."

"Look," Blaine urged, pulling Kurt forward slightly to close the space between them. He felt the nerves bubble, knowing he'd have to take over and bare his soul before Kurt would even consider baring his. "I'll go first."

"Ok." Kurt sighed out, his shoulders relaxing visibly. With still closed eyes, he raised his eyebrows in wait.

Taking a shaking breath, Blaine began. "I want you to feel comfortable. I know it's going to be awkward and possibly weird because neither of us have that much experience-"

"Any experience, Blaine, _any," _Kurt cut in.

"Yes, any, but I want to... I want to be able to kiss you and know that you understand _why _I'm doing it. I want you to know that... being with you in _that _way is just as scary for me but I think of it differently to you. It's being so close to someone that you feel as if you're one person and one heart and if that's not romantic then I don't understand romance. I know I'll hate taking off my clothes because, who doesn't, and I can't compete with you and your flawless skin and tiny waist because I'm wider and I've got this awkward chest and broad shoulders that don't belong on someone with, um, not as much height. Blazers are a saviour when you want to cover that up.," he took a deep and replenishing breath and kept on talking, "but I know that we're good at being honest even when it's something we might not want to be honest about, which makes us great together. I just want to be able to look in your eyes and know that even though it's scary and I'm possibly never going to feel as exposed, I'm with _you _ so it's ok."

The only sound was the faraway laughter and rumble of the ice cream truck's engine. Kurt swallowed thickly, his hand now sweaty, but he didn't care. He wasn't sure what he wanted or how he wanted it but Blaine was right. If he was ever going to overcome whatever insecurities he had inside then it was going to be so much easier with someone trustworthy and someone he cared about and he knew cared about _him. _He opened his eyes slowly. Blaine was nervous and visibly so. It took a few seconds of adjustment to really appreciate how clear his eyes were, how vulnerable he looked sitting with his legs crossed – almost child like – and just how handsome and entirely _real _he was. It was as if someone had been holding tracing paper in front of his eyes for so long. It was all so real and _happening _to _him. _He wasn't dreaming or wishing, nor was he pretending, because Blaine was sitting across from him saying words he'd always wanted to hear in a tone so fused with honesty. Kurt knew and fully accepted he wasn't perfect; he could kick ass on stage and knock a solo into next century while at the same time sporting the most incredible ensemble outfit, but he had a stupid high pitched voice and weird hips and hair that required half a can of hairspray to be tamed and he was scared of things, so inexperienced, so lacking in understanding that it frightened him that he'd never quite catch up with everyone else. So he hid. He hid himself deep down to keep it tucked away and safe. Blaine was dragging it out of him and he was powerless to stop him.

The realisation that he was living his own dream came like a miracle, so shocking and bright in pillar box red with unruly curly hair under too much product.

"I love you."

Blaine let out a breath, smiling all lopsided and grateful, that Kurt barely had a chance to breathe. "Talk about keeping a guy hanging," he whispered, climbing forward, his arms either side of Kurt's hips and lips so close they left shadows on Kurt's cheek.

With his heart beating hard, Kurt leaned closer to allow their lips to meet. "When it happens," he breathed out between kisses, "I won't be scared... because I don't need to be. Do I?"

A hand snaked its way around his waist. Leaning back against the tree, Kurt gasped as he felt Blaine press himself close and warm, the heat trapped between them and wrapping them up . There were so many textures – cotton and grass –, so many smells – ice cream and flowers – and everything felt heightened, intoxicating. For a second, Kurt felt like crying in awe but as he felt Blaine's fingers trickling patterns up the side of his neck, he smiled into the kiss and melted.

Blaine didn't need to answer. Kurt already _knew_ what he'd say.


End file.
